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THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


STEPS    TO¥AEDS    HEAVEN; 


OB, 


RELIGION  IN  COMMON  LIFE. 


A  SERIES  OF  LAI  SERMONS  FOR  CONVERTS  IN  THB 
GREAT  AWAKENING; 


BY   T.    S.   ARTHUR. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

G.  G.  EVANS,  439  CHESTNUT  STREET. 

1859. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  Is".",  by 
J.    W.    BRADLEY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Ui-art  of  the  United  States,  in  and 
for  the  Eastern  1'Hriet  of  Pennsylvania. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 

fBINTED   BY   KINO   &   BA1RD 

607   SANSOM   STKKET 


PS 


PREFACE. 


No  special  theology  is  taught  in  this  volume.  It 
addresses  itself  to  no  particular  sect  or  denomination.  It 
has  no  aim  but  to  assist  men  to  grow  better,  and  thence, 
happier.  The  author  comes  to  the  reader,  and  seeks  to 
inspire  him  with  an  unselfish,  even  a  divine  and  holy  pur 
pose  ;  to  aid  him  in  the  conquest  of  evil  affections  ;  and 
to  furnish  him  with  incentives  to  right  living. 

Religion  is  life  ;  that  is,  a  life  of  good  deeds  in  the 
world — and,  unless  such  a  life  be  led,  no  matter  what  a 
man's  faith  may  be,  his  religion  is  vain.  Piety,  which 
means  the  formal  worship  of  God,  and  Charity  which  con. 
sists  in  acting  justly  among  men,  make,  when  united  in 
any  one,  the  true  Christian.  Charity  is  the  great  essen 
tial  ;  for,  if  a  man  love  not  his  brother  whom  he  hath 
seen,  how  can  he  love  God  whom  he  hath  not  seen? 
Worship,  therefore,  in  the  absence  of  charity,  is  vain,  and 
the  prayers  of  one  who  does  not  deal  justly  and  humanely 
with  his  fellow-men,  can  never  ascend  into  heaven. 

Such  is  the  doctrine  of  this  book,  and  in  teaching  it,  the 


1117C68 


IV  PEEFACE. 

author  has  chosen  the  attractive  and  beguiling  form  of 
life-pictures,  narratives,  and  conversations,  hoping  thereby 
to  win  the  attention  and  hold  the  interest  of  his  readers, 
until  the  lessons  he  would  teach  are  written  upon  their 
minds -in  ineffaceable  characters.  He  takes,  as  it  were, 
the  truth-seeker  at  the  church  door,  as  he  is  about  going 
back  for  his  six  days'  toil,  temptation,  and  experience  in 
the  world,  and  tries  to  make  him  comprehend  that  religion 
is  for  the  daily  life,  and  cannot  be  put  aside  at  the  tran 
quil  close  of  Sabbath  evenings.  That  in  every  department 
of  business  ;  in  every  office  and  profession  ;  and  in  every 
household  duty,  men  and  women  must  be  governed  by  the 
divine  precepts  of  the  Bible,  or  they  cannot  move  a  step 
heavenwards,  no  matter  how  devoutly  they  may  have 
worshipped  in  the  congregations  of  the  people. 


CONTENTS. 


MM 

L 

From  Death  onto  Life,  .        .        •        .       •       •       •        .        9 

IL 

As  we  Forgive, .        .       35 

IIL 

Heavenly  Minded, ,        .        .      45 

'      IV. 

Wheat  or  Tares  ? 60 

V. 

Is  he  a  Christian  ? ••..57 

VI. 

Of  Such  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven, 71 

VIL 

The  Happy  New  Year, 81 

VIII. 

Entering  Heaven, 95 

IX. 
It  is  Morning  with  the  Child,         ......    100 

X. 
Richer  or  Poorer  ?  ...  ...    109 


Vi  CONTENTS. 

MM 

XL 
Every  Wrinkle  a  Line  of  Beauty, 121 

XII. 
Died  Poor, 128 

XIII. 
Cursed  with  Blessings, 132 

XIV. 
He  that  Overcometh, 138 

XV. 
The  Trials  of  a  Day, 146 

XVL 
Angel  Visits, 168 

XVII. 
Algernon  the  Merchant, 176 

XVIII. 
Enemies, 188 

XIX. 

Duty  and  Kindness, .    189 

XX. 
Imperishable  Beauty,     ........     203 

XXL 
Neighbor  Gray, 214 

XXII. 
Spiritual  Pride, 232 

XXIII. 

Aunty  Jones,  the  Peacemaker, 257 

XXIV. 

Which  shall  Serve?  .        ,268 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

MM 

XXV. 
Jfr.  Brownlee's  Visitor, 282 

XXVI. 
The  Shadows  we  Cast, 291 

XXVIL 
Good  Deeds, 801 

XXVIII. 
Ruined, 806 

XXIX. 

Providence,  . .        .    311 

XXX. 
The  Wages  of  the  Poor, 825 

XXXI. 
The  Dream  Warning, 832 

XXXII. 
In  the  Workshop, 842 

XXXIII. 
The  Two  Pictures,         ........    868 

XXXTV. 
Temptation, •••••    862 

XXXV. 
At  Home, 8*70 

XXXVI. 

WildOatfl, 892. 

XXXVII. 
The  Angel  Pain, 8»« 


STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 


FKOM  DEATH  UNTO  LIFE. 

THE  prayer-meeting  excitement  was  over  for  the 
day,  and  Mr.  Lyon,  who  had  returned  to  his  family, 
was  feeling  the  pressure  of  old  states,  and  the  jar 
of  old  discordant  conditions  of  life.  Mrs.  Lyon 
was  weary  with  her  day's  work,  and  manifested 
an  unusual  degree  of  impatience,  especially  towards 
the  children,  whose  tempers  were  altogether  out  of 
harmony. 

The  transition  from  a  prayer-meeting,  in  which 
the  soul  rises  into  states  of  ecstasy,  or  sinks  into  an 
almost  pulseless  tranquillity,  to  an  ill-regulated 
home,  where  selfish  feelings  struggle  for  the  mas 
tery,  and  discord  jars  the  heart  at  every  pulsation, 

is  ver,y  great,  and  presents  one  of  the  strongest 

1*  » 


10  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

trials  of  a  man's  religious  feelings.  He  who  can 
meet  this  change,  and  yet  possess  his  soul  in  peace, 
has,  indeed,  gained  large  accessions  of  spiritual  life. 
There  are  not  many  who  can  pass  through  the  trial 
unmoved. 

"Thank  God!  Another  soul  has  passed  from 
death  unto  life  I"  said  a  pious  brother,  as  he  wrung 
the  hand  of  Mr.  Lyon,  on  parting  with  him  at  the 
door  of  the  room  where  the  daily  prayer-meeting 
was  held.  "  I  greet  you  as  an  heir  of  the  King 
dom  !  You  have  a  goodly  heritage.  Let  me  exhort 
you  to  stand  fast  in  the  faith,  and  to  suffer  no  man 
to  take  your  crown." 

"  I  have  been  near  the  gate  of  heaven,"  Mr. 
Lyon  spoke  in  a  subdued  tone,  and  with  a  smile  of 
peace  on  his  countenance.  "I  could  almost  hear 
angelic  voices — almost  see  the  white  garments  of 
the  shining  ones.  Oh,  the  bliss  of  heaven !  I  feel 
as  if  I  would  like  to  pass  upwards,  now,  to  my  rest, 
and  be  received  into  the  company  of  saints  and 
martyrs." 

"  You  speak  from  the  warmth  of  a  first  love,  that 
is  sweeter  than  honey  and  the  honey-comb,"  an 
swered  the  brother.  "  But  we  must  fight,  if  we 
would  reign ;  and  you  must  pray  with  the  poet — 


FROM   DEATH   UNTO   LIFE.  11 

'  Increase  my  courage,  Lord.' 

"  Only  they  who  bear  the  cross,   can  wear  the 
crown." 

A  little  dashed  were  the  feelings  of  Mr.  Lyon, 
by  these  words  of  the  brother,  and  he  moved  on  his 
way  homeward,  in  a  less  ecstatic  frame  of  mind. 

"  From  death  unto  life  !"  The  language  of  con 
gratulation  still  lingered  in  his  ears.  "  What  death  ? 
What  life?"  These  questions  a  little  disturbed 
him,  for  the  answer  was  not  prompt  and  clear. 

"  Born  into  spiritual  life.  Born  a  new  creature 
in  God."  He  uttered  the  words,  mentally,  with 
some  firmness,  as  if  to  settle  the  question  decisively. 
But  he  was  not  satisfied. 

"  What  is  spiritual  life  2  What  is  a  new  creature 
in  Goa  ?  Language  that  involves  such  vast  con 
cerns  can  have  no  vague  significance." 

Instead  of  gaining  light,  the  mind  of  our  friend 
passed  into  a  region  of  clouds  and  shadows.  He 
was  in  this  state  when  he  arrived  at  home.  It  was 
just  after  twilight. 

"  There  now !  Father's  come  !"  It  was  the  voice 
of  one  of  his  children,  and  the  tones  had  in  them 
a  threat  and  a  warning. 

"I  dont  care,"  was  the  rough,  defiant  answer. 


12  STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  He  '11  make  you  care  !" 

"  No  he  won't !" 

"  John !  Eobert !  stop  this  instant !"  It  was  the 
mother's  voice,  shrill  and  jarring.  "  I  won't  have 
your  everlasting  contention  in  the  house."  At  this 
moment,  Mrs.  Lyon  saw  her  husband;  and  she 
went  on :  "If  your  father  don't  do  something  to 
put  an  end  to  this  quarrelling,  I'll  go  off  somewhere. 
I'd  rather  live  in  Bedlam !" 

"What  a  transition  for  the  young  convert !  What 
a  fiery  test  of  his  new  life !  The  tranquil  move 
ment  of  his  sweet  emotions  was  checked,  and  all 
the  elements  of  feeling  shocked  by  the  sudden  jar. 

"  John !  Robert !"  Mr.  Lyon  spoke  angrily,  for  it 
was  as  if  a  sharp  spear  had  pricked  him.  And  he 
moved  towards  the  boys  with  an  uplifted  hand. 

"  From  death  unto  life."  Was  it  a  mocking 
fiend,  or  a  loving  angel,  who  flung  the  words  into 
his  mind  ?  No  matter.  The  ministry  was  good. 
The  excited  father  checked  himself,  and  his  hand 
fell,  nerveless,  by  his  side. 

"  John,"  he  spoke  now  more  in  sorrow  than  in 
anger,  "  go  into  the  sitting-room,  and  you,  Robert, 
remain  here.  Children  who  quarrel  must  be  kept 
apart," 


FKOM   DEATH   UNTO   LIFE.  13 

The  boys  looked  curiously  at  their  father,  and 
John  obeyed  with  unusual  promptness.  There  was 
a  new  power  in  Mr.  Lyon's  voice  that  left  no  motion 
of  resistance  in  the  lad's  mind. 

"Did  you  order  that  sugar  and  butter  sent  home, 
as  I  told  you  ?  It  hasn't  come." 

Mrs.  Lyon  spoke  fretfully,  and  looked  at  her  hus 
band  with  contracting  brows. 

"  No !  I  declare  I  forgot  all  about  it,"  answered 
the  husband. 

"Forgot!  Humph!  Well,  I  can  tell  you;  if 
you  want  butter  on  your  bread,  and  sugar  in  your 
tea,  you've  got  to  go  after  them  now." 

Mr.  Lyon  was  not,  naturally,  of  a  very  amiable 
disposition,  and  had  never  taken,  with  a  good  grace, 
any  matrimonial  reactions  of  this  kind;  so  the 
temptation  to  answer  in  as  bad  a  spirit  was  instant 
and  almost  overpowering." 

"  From  death  unto  life."  The  thought  was  just 
in  season.  He  did  not  speak,  but  turned  from  his 
companion,  and,  taking  up  his  hat,  went  out.  In 
about  ten  minutes  he  came  back  with  the  needed 
articles. 

"  You  might  have  saved  yourself  that  trouble," 
almost  growled  Mrs.  Lyon.  Now,  this  was  too 


14:  STEPS   TOWAKDS   HEAVEN. 

bad;  and  the  repressed  feelings  of  her  husband 
came  near  blazing  out.  But,  he  remembered  the 
prayer-meetings,  and  his  profession,  and  so  strove 
manfully  with  the  enemies  of  his  peace,  that  were 
rushing  down  upon  him  like  a  flood. 

At  supper  time  there  was  little  else  but  discord. 
The  children  were,  as  usual,  restless,  dissatisfied, 
and  contentious,  and  their  overtried  mother — 
weary  in  heart  and  limb — as  fretful  as  she  could 
be.  Nor  did  Mr.  Lyon  succeed  in  keeping  his  own 
feelings  all  the  while  in  check.  More  than  once} 
the  inward  pressure  proved  too  strong  for  the  out 
ward  resistance ;  and  words  were  said,  and  acts 
done,  that  were  not  in  harmony  with  Christian 
patience. 

It  is  not  surprising,  that  tempting  spirits  seized 
upon  these  occasions,  to  throw  doubt  into  the  young 
convert's  mind,  and  to  suggest  that  religion  was 
but  a  cunningly  devised  fable,  and  professors  only 
self-deceived,  or  hypocrites.  But  there  were  re 
mains  of  heavenly  truths  and  holy  states,  stored  up 
in  his  mind  by  a  good  mother,  in  the  innocent  days 
of  childhood  and  youth,  and  these  were  now  con 
victions  that  no  fallacious  argument,  or  false  sug 
gestions,  could  obliterate.  Mr.  Lyon  knew  that 


FROM   DEATH   UNTO    LIFE.  15 

there  was  such  a  thing  as  spiritual  life,  and  that, 
when  it  was  born  in  a  human  soul,  it  had  power  to 
hold  all  hell  in  subjection.  And  so,  though  de 
spised,  sad  and  discouraged,  he  did  not  abandon 
the  ground  he  had  taken. 

After  the  supper  things  were  removed,  the  chil 
dren  in  bed,  the  sitting  room  put  in  order,  and  the 
lamp  placed  on  the  centre  table,  near  which  Mrs. 
Lyon  sat  down  with  her  basket  of  work,  the  quieter 
sphere  of  the  room  gave  opportunity  for  the  feel 
ings  of  Mr.  Lyon  to  subside  into  a  more  tranquil 
state.  He  took  the  unused  family  Bible,  and 
laying  it  upon  the  centre  table,  opened  it,  and  after 
turning  over  the  leaves,  commenced  reading  a 
chapter  aloud. 

Mrs.  Lyon  looked  up  at  her  husband  curiously, 
when  she  saw  him  take  up  the  family  Bible  and 
bring  it  to  the  table  at  which  she  was  sitting. 
"What  does  this  mean?"  she  said  to  herself. 
"When  he  commenced  reading,  curiosity  gave  way  to 
surprise.  Mr.  Lyon  read  in  a  low,  impressive  voice, 
the  fifth,  sixth,  and  seventh  chapters  of  Matthew, 
that  portion  of  the  Divine  "Word  which  is  so  full  of 
incentives  to  right  living.  As  he  read,  the  precepts 
of  Him  who  spake  as  never  man  spake,  sunk  deep 


16  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

ly  into  the  hearts  of  the  husband  and  wife.  Into 
the  heart  of  the  husband,  becaube,  like  a  thirsty 
traveller  in  a  burning  desert,  he  was  in  search  of 
living  waters — into  the  heart  of  his  wife,  because 
the  very  novelty  of  the  occasion  gave  her  mind  a 
certain  degree  of  preparation. 

After  reading  these  three  chapters,  Mr.  Lyon  sat 
silent  and  thoughtful  for  some  time. 

"There  is  one  thing  very  certain,"  said  he,  at 
length,  "  if  any  man  wishes  to  get  to  heaven,  he 
must  live  right  in  the  world." 

Mr.  Lyon  did  not  address  these  words  to  his 
wife,  but  uttered  them  as  if  speaking  to  himself. 
She  said  nothing,  and  he  remained  with  his  eyes 
upon  the  floor. 

"Mary."  Mrs.  Lyon  glanced  across  the  table, 
and  met  the  gaze  of  her  husband.  The  tone  of  his 
voice,  and  the  expression  of  his  eyes,  were  per 
ceived  by  her  as  altogether  different  from  anything 
she  had  before  observed. 

"Mary,  I  was  at  a  prayer-meeting  this  afternoon." 

"  "Were  you  ?"    Mrs.  Lyon  seemed  interested. 

"  Yes,  Mary."  The  firmness  of  tone  gave  way  to 
a  perceptible  tremor.  "  And  I  think — or  hope — 
that  I  am  a  changed  man." 


FROM   DEATH    UNTO   LIFE.  17 

A  flush  of  sudden  feeling  came  warmly  over  the 
face  of  Mrs.  Lyon. 

"  Life  in  this  world  is  short,  at  best,  and  very 
uncertain,  Mary,  and  to  make  timely  preparation 
for  the  next  is  only  the  dictate  of  common  pru 
dence." 

Mrs.  Lyon  was  wholly  unprepared  for  this,  and, 
therefore,  her  mind  was  thrown  into  some  confu 
sion.  But  having  broken  the  ice,  so  to  speak,  her 
husband  regained  his  self-possession,  as  well  as 
mental  clearness.  Meeting  with  no  response,  he 
continued : 

"  I  think,  Mary,  that  I  am  entirely  in  earnest 
about  this  matter.  I  wish  to  lead  the  life  of 
heaven." 

Now,  Mrs.  Lyon  had  received  early  religious 
instruction ;  and  up  to  the  time  of  her  marriage, 
had  been  a  regular  attendant  at  church.  Since  her 
marriage,  in  consequence  of  her  husband's  indiffer 
ence  to  spiritual  things,  she  had  fallen  into  a  like 
neglect  with  him.  It  was  rarely  that  she  attended 
worship  on  the  Sabbath ;  and  her  children  were 
growing  up  with  but  few  good  impressions.  Many 
times  had  she  thought  of  this;  and  when  early 
states  of  mind  returned,  and  she  contrasted  hei 


18  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

own  childhood  with  that  of  her  little  ones,  painful 
condemnation  would  oppress  her  spirit.  "But 
what  can  I  do  ?"  she  would  sometimes  say  to  her 
self.  "  My  husband  has  no  regard  for  religion."  It 
was  but  an  excuse ;  yet  the  excuse  prevailed.  No 
wonder  this  unlocked  for  announcement  bewildered 
her.  She  did  not  answer  still ;  but  as  Mr.  Lyon 
looked  into  her  eyes,  he  saw  tears  filling  into  them. 

"  Shall  we  walk  on  in  this  better  way,  side  by 
side,  Mary  ?"  Mr.  Lyon  spoke  with  great  tender 
ness,  reaching  his  hand  across  the  table  towards 
the  hand  of  his  wife.  There  was  an  eager  assenting 
clasp — a  sudden  bowing  of  the  head — a  rUn  of 
tears. 

"  God  helping  us,  we  will  lead  anew  life,"  said  Mr. 
Lyon,  breaking  in,  at  last,  upon  the  deep  silence. 

"There  is  no  help  but  in  Him."  Mrs.  Lyon 
looked  up,  the  light  of  a  new  hope  shining  through 
her  tears.  "And  as  I  say  this,"  she  added,  "  I 
remember  the  words  of  a  preacher,  uttered 
many  years  ago.  They  were — 'In  every  good 
desire  God  is  present,  and  into  every  good  purpose 
He  flows  with  strength.'  Not  in  our  own  strength 
can  we  walk  in  this  new  way — for  it  is  a  heavenly 
way,  and  human  power  is  but  weakness  there.  For 


FROM   DEATH    UNTO   LIFE.  19 

a  divine  life,  there  must  be  divine  strength — and 
this  is  the  gift  of  God  alone." 

Mr.  Lyon  looked  into  the  face  of  his  wife,  won 
deringlj,  as  she  talked. 

"  I  did  not  know,  Mary,  that  you  had  religious 
views  like  these,"  he  said.  "  I  thought  you  were 
wholly  indifferent  on  the  subject." 

"No,  Henry,  not  indifferent  by  any  means," 
she  answered,  with  much  earnestness.  "  My 
mother  was  a  pious  woman,  and  talked  with  me 
about  God  and  heaven,  and  Christian  duty,  always. 
But  you  never  seemed  to  care  about  these  things ; 
and,  gradually,  I  have  fallen  into  coldness.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  the  way  was  too  narrow  and 
difficult  to  walk  in  alone ;  and  so,  I  have  suffered 
myself  to  take  the  broad,  and  what  appeared  the 
easier,  road  through  the  world.  But  it  has  not 
been  an  easy  way  in  any  respect.  Something  is 
always  getting  wrong,  and  the  ground  I  tread  upon 
each  day  is  rough  or  miry,  though,  when  seen  a 
little  in  the  distance,  it  looked  smooth  and  firm  as 
a  well  beaten  path.  I  am  sadly  conscious  of  a 
steadily  growing  moral  deterioration.  I  am  not 
as  patient,  and  hopeful,  as  forbearing  and  self-deny 
ing,  as  I  once  was.  My  temper  is  less  under  con- 


20  STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

trol.  I  have  wicked,  revengeful,  and  rebellious 
thoughts.  And,  most  of  the  time,  I  am  very  unhap 
py.  Oh,  dear!  I  shudder  often  at  the  image  Ox 
myself,  which  seems  held  up  before  me  as  in  a 
mirror.  God  help  me,  Henry!  I  am  at  times, 
almost  in  despair !" 

And  Mrs.  Lyon  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  and 
wept  violently. 

"Let  me  repeat  your  own  words,  dear  Mary," 
said  her  husband.  " '  For  a  divine  life  there  must 
be  divine  strength,  and  "this  is  the  gift  of  God 
alone.'  Shall  we  not  pray  for  it  here,  and  now  ?  His 
words  are,  Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive.  Seek,  and  ye 
shall  find.  Knock,  and  it  shall  oe  opened  unto  you." 

"  Here,  and  now,"  was  the  low-murmured  answer 
of  Mrs.  Lyon. 

And  so  they  knelt  tfiere  together,  in  this  first 
consecration  of  themselves ;  and  the  husband  prayed 
aloud  for  wisdom  to  see  the  right  way,  and  strength 
to  walk  therein. 

When  they  arose  from  prayer,  a  deep  tranquil- 
iity  had  settled  upon  their  spirits,  and  their  minds 
seemed  elevated  into  a  clearer-seeing  region.  From 
the  gloom  of  despondency  they  had  passed  into  the 
light  of  heavenly  confidence. 


FROM   DEATH   UNTO   LIFE.  21 

"The  language  of  divine  truth  is  exceedingly 
plain,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  as  they  sat  together.  "  Ask, 
and  ye  shall  receive.  We  have  asked  of  our  Father 
in  heaven  to  teach  us  how  to  live  aright,  and  he  will 
teach  us,  and  lead  us  in  true  paths,  if  we  submit  as 
little  children.  For  this  we  have  a  thousand  assur 
ances,  scattered  everywhere  through  the  Bible." 

"  Yes,  everywhere,"  was  the  subdued  answer. 
"  And  memory  is  pointing  to  precious  texts  written 
down  upon  her  tablets  long  ago.  '  Come  unto  me 
all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest?  Does  not  this  seem  as  if  spoken  to 
us  now,  Henry  ?  It  was  printed  on  the  first  ticket 
I  received  in  Sunday-school,  and  is  as  fresh  in  my 
thought  now  as  then.  Oh !  is  it  not  full  of  comfort 
and  hope  ?  *  Come  unto  me?  'I  will  give  you  rest.' 
There  is  no  qualification ;  no  discrimination.  All 
who  labor  and  are  heavy  laden." 

"  God  has  changed  our  hearts,"  said  Mr.  Lyon, 
warming  into  enthusiasm.  "We  have  passed  from 
death  into  life.  We  are  dead  to  sin,  and  alive  in 
Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.  Blessed  be  God  for  his 
divine  grace,  that  cleanses  from  all  defilements !"  . 

"From  death  unto  life?"  Mrs.  Lyon  looked 
almost  soberly  into  her  husband's  face. 


22  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"Is  it  not  so?"  he  questioned.  "Dead  to  sin, 
and  alive  to  righteousness  ?" 

"  God  grant  that  it  may  be  so,"  was  the  quiet 
answer.  "  But  the  hard  duties  of  life  are  before  us, 
Henry  ;  and  more — "  She  paused,  with  almost  a 
sad  countenance. 

"  More  ?     Say  on,  Mary." 

"  "We  may  be  dead  to  sin.  I  pray  heaven  that  it 
be  so.  But,  whatever  of  new  life  may  be  born 
within  us  from  God,  must  be  feeble  as  the  babe's 
life.  And,  with  only  this  feeble  life  to  sustain  us, 
we  have  to  do  battle  with  the  strong  man  of 
evil." 

"  But  God  is  on  our  side.  In  his  strength  we  can 
overcome  all  our  enemies,"  said  Mr.  Lyon. 

"If  we  will  but  look  to  Him  in  the  hour  of 
temptation." 

"  We  must — we  must.  There  is  no  other  hope." 
Mr.  Lyon's  enthusiasm  was  dying  down.  He  saw 
that  there  was  not  only  work,  but  a  battle  before 
them,  and  that  they  must  toil  and  fight,  if  they 
would  come  off  victorious. 

On  the  next  morning,  the  calm,  sober,  earnest 
manner  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lyon  had  a  marked  effect 
upon  their  badly  trained  children,  who  at  once 


FEOM   DEATH    UNTO   LIFE.  23 

observed  the  change,  and  waited,  curiously,  to  see 
just  what  it  meant. 

"  Will  you  hand  me  the  Bible,  Mary  ?"  said  Mr. 
Lyon,  speaking  to  his  wife,  as  she  came  into  the 
room  where  he  was  sitting  with  the  children,  to  say 
that  breakfast  was  ready. 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  almost  wonder- 
ingly,  and  then,  with  an  assenting  smile,  lifted  the 
family  Bible  from  a  stand,  and  placing  it  before 
him,  sat  down  by  his  side.  The  children  gazed, 
curiously,  at  both  their  father  and  mother,  and 
waited  in  silence  for  what  was  to  succeed.  A 
chapter  was  read,  in  a  low,  serious  voice.  Then  the 
father  and  mother  knelt  down,  and  the  children  did 
likewise.  The  prayer  was  brief,  just  covering  the 
needs  and  experience  of  the  petitioner.  There  were 
no  vain  words,  nor  any  pompous  phraseology ;  but 
a  humble  directness,  that  showed  an  earnest  heart. 

For  the  first  time,  in  months,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lyop 
enjoyed  a  quiet,  orderly  meal.  The  eifect  of  this 
unlooked-for  act  of  worship,  was  to  subdue  the  chil 
dren's  minds,  as  well  as  to  excite  their  curiosity ; 
and  as  the  parents  maintained  a  calm,  rather  sober 
demeanor,  they  yielded  to  the  new  influence,  and 
took  an  altogether  improved  exterior. 


24r  6TEP8   TOWAKD8   HEAVEN. 

"  There  is  a  wonderful  power  in  divine  grace," 
said  Mr.  Lyon,  as  he  was  parting  with  his  wife, 
after  breakfast.     "  It  has  subdued  even  these  almos 
rngovernable  children."     He  spoke  with  a  glow  of, 
enthusiasm. 

Mrs.  Lyon  did  not  respond ;  but  looked  into  hi 
face  earnestly,  and  with  eyes  that  had  in  them  a 
shade  of  sadness. 

"  Is  the  whispering  Doubter  already  at  your  ear, 
Mary  ?"  The  husband  spoke  almost  in  reproof. 

"  It  is  he  that  overcometh,  who  shall  not  be  hurt 
of  the  second  death,"  said  Mrs.  Lyon. 

"  Through  God  strengthening  me,  I  can  do  all 
things."  Mr.  Lyon  spoke  with  renewed  enthu 
siasm. 

A  faint  smile  went  over  the  face  of  his  wife. 

"  Is  it  not  so  ?  Have  we  not  the  sure  word  of 
promise  ?" 

"Yes,  and  I  believe  it,"  was  the  low,  sober, 
almost  sad  response. 

"Then  why  are  you  cast  down,  Mary?  Have 
faith  in  God.  Trust  him — look  to  him.  He  is 
stronger  than  all  our  enemies." 

"All  this  is  well  to  be  said,  Henry;  for  it  is 
true,  and  gives  strength  and  hope.  But  Christian 


FEOM  DEATH   UNTO   LIFE.  25 

graces  are  given,  not  as  ornaments,  but  as  tools  for 
work,  and  armor  for  battle.  Religion  is  life — that 
is,  a  good  life ;  and  the  life  cannot  be  good,  unless 
the  acts  are  good.  And  now  abideth  faith,  hope, 
and  charity,  these  three ;  but  the  greatest  of  these 
is  charity.  Faith  is  idle,  and  hope  vain,  unless  they 
subside  in  charity.  So  I  read  the  divine  law." 

"  Look  up,  Mary.  Pray  for  strengtli — pray  with 
out  ceasing,"  said  Mr.  Lyon  encouragingly.  "  God 
will  give  you  strength  for  duty." 

u  I  must  watch,  and  work,  and  guard,  as  well  as 
pray,"  was  answered.  "  There  will  be  sudden  as 
saults  upon  my  patience,  and  untimely  demands 
on  my  discretion.  In  a  moment  of  weariness,  or 
exhaustion,  sharp  provocations  to  anger  will  come. 
When  thought  acts  feebly,  because  both  mind  and 
body  are  overstrained,  there  will  arise  some  press 
ing  need  for  wisdom  and  prudence.  Can  I  hope 
always  to  be  patient  and  discreet,  wise  and  pru 
dent?  No,  Henry;  that  is  impossible.  But,  God 
helping  me,  I  will  do  my  best.  I  cannot  rise  into 
these  new-born  ecstasies.  I  do  not  see  the  Chris 
tian  life  as  one  of  undiminished  sunshine  and 
heavenly  tranquillity.  There  must  be  conquest, 

ere  smiling  peace  is  born ;  there  must  be  night,  ere 
2 


26  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN 

the  glad  morning  breaks ;  labor,  before  rest.  WeU 
done  good  and  faithful  SERVANT,  are  the  words  of 
welcome  into  heaven." 

"  God  will  help  you,  Mary,"  was  Mr.  Lyon's 
softened  reply.  "  I  see  that  you  are  indeed  in  ear 
nest  ;  that  you  mean  to  begin  right.  Let  me  say 
this  to  encourage  you — it  comes  but  now  into  my 
thought.  After  every  conquest,  will  come  a  state 
of  peace ;  after  every  night  of  fear  and  doubt,  a 
sunny  morning ;  after  every  period  of  labor,  rest. 
And  so,  with  the  daily  trial,  will  come  the  daily 
blessing." 

"Thank  you,  dear  husband,"  said  Mrs.  Lyon,  a 
gleam  of  light  shooting  across  her  face ;  "  I  just 
needed  that.  ISTow  I  see  clearer.  Now  I  feel  a 
higher  strength." 

They  parted  for  the  day.  We  cannot  follow 
them  through  its  varied  scenes,  nor  show  how  their 
new-born  faith  was  tried.  They  had  helped  each 
other  by  mutual  suggestions,  and  did  not,  therefore, 
go  into  the  new  life-battle  with  any  vain  confi 
dence.  If  God  gave  the  power  to  fight  against 
evil,  they  saw  that  they  must  use  it  as  if  it  were 
their  own;  that  a  change  of  purpose  was  not  a 
change  in  any  of  the  laws  of  the  seul's  being.  The 


FROM   DEATH   UNTO   LIFE.  27 

individual  must  overcome,  if  he  would  triumph. 
All  that  God  did  for  him  was  to  supply  proof- 
armor,  a  sword,  and  strength.  Beyond  that,  all 
rested  with  himself.  There  was  hope  for  them ;  as 
there  is  for  all  who  see  the  way  clearly,  and  are  in 
earnest  to  walk  therein. 

Not  light  had  been  the  trials,  nor  feeble  the  as 
saults  of  evil,  which  Mr.  Lyon  endured  through 
the  day,  and  when  he  turned  his  steps  homeward 
at  its  close,  he  was  in  a  soberer  mood  than  when  he 
left  the  prayer-meeting  on  the  evening  before. 
Husband  and  wife  looked  into  each  other's  faces 
earnestly  when  they  met.  Faint  smiles,  that  soon 
faded,  played  about  their  quiet  lips.  But  there 
were  deep  meanings  in  their  eyes,  that  seemed  to 
have  grown  clearer  and  calmer.  Mr.  Lyon  did  not 
find  a  storm,  nor  even  the  evidences  of  a  storm. 
Instead  of  being  engaged  in  quarrelling,  John  was 
doing  something  for  his  mother,  and  Kobert  sat 
reading.  There  was  an  unusual  stillness  in  the 
house,  and  evidences  of  a  new  order  of  things  all 
around.  A  neater  set  tea-table  he  had  not  seen  for 
a  long  time  than  the  one  he  found  in  the  little 
dining-room,  nor  had  his  food  tasted  so  sweet  for 
years. 


28  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

After  the  children  were  in  bed,  and  the  father 
and  mother  were  alone  together  again,  Mr.  Lyon 
leaned  across  the  little  centre-table  on  which  the 
lamp  had  "been  placed,  and  looked  steadily  into  the 
face  of  his  wife,  who  sat  on  the  other  side. 

"  How  has  the  day  passed,  Mary  ?"  he  asked. 

Mrs.  Lyon  did  not  smile,  as  she  looked  up  and 
met  her  husband's  eyes. 

"•Well?" 

"Better  than  I  had  hoped;  yet  I  cannot  say 
well,"  she  answered,  soberly. 

"  I  can  see  the  evidences  of  a  great  and  a  good 
work,  well  begun,"  was  the  encouraging  answer  of 
Mr.  Lyon.  "How  singularly  quiet  and  readily 
obedient  the  children  were.  The  mother's  hand  is 
in  this." 

"  You  have  seen  them  in  their  best  condition," 
Mrs.  Lyon  replied.  "  It  has  not  been  so  through 
all  the  day.  I  have  had  to  watch  them  with  the 
closest  care,  and  to  judge  of  them  and  between 
them,  when  it  seemed  as  if  my  over-tried  spirit  was 
losing  its  power  to  see  and  to  act.  I  have  learned 
one  good  lesson  in  the  trial.  There  must  be  self- 
control  and  self-conquest,  before  we  can  hope  to  sub 
due  evil  in  others.  Just  in  the  degree  that  I  was 


FROM   DEATH   UNTO   LIFE.  29 

able  to  control  myself,  was  I  able  to  govern  the 
children,  and  to  subdue  them  to  my  will.  But,  if 
I  spoke  with  the  slightest  sign  of  anger,  my  words 
seemed  lost  in  the  empty  air." 

"  Then  there  has  been  a  double  victory  over  the 
powers  of  evil,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  with  a  smile  of 
pleasure  glowing  in  his  face.  "  A  victory  on  the 
battle  field  of  your  own  heart,  and  a  victory  in  the 
strife  with  our  children." 

"I  can  scarcely  call  it  a  victory  in  my  own 
case,"  was  answered.  "  I  was  only  not  driven  from 
the  field." 

It  was  a  long  time  since,  in  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Lyon, 
the  face  of  his  wife  had  worn  an  aspect  so  pleasing  as 
now.     He  gazed  upon  it  in  almost  loving  wonder. 
•     "Are  you  discouraged,  Mary  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Discouraged  ?  Oh,  no  !"  Her  countenance 
brightened  suddenly.  "  Do  you  think  I  have  forgot 
ten  the  hopeful  sentence  you  gave  me  this  morning. 
'  After  every  conquest  will  come  a  state  of  peace — 
after  every  night  of  doubt  and  fear,  a  sunny  morn 
ing — after  every  period  of  labor,  rest.  And  so, 
with  the  daily  trial  will  come  the  daily  blessing.' 
No,  no ;  and  now,  dear  husband !  after  this  brief 
period  of  strife,  darkness,  and  labor,  I  have  a  mea 


30  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

sure  of  tranquillity,  light,  and  rest.     The  daily  trial 
is  past,  and  I  have  the  blessing." 

"And  the  blessing  is  worth  all  that  it  has  cost," 
said  Mr.  Lyon. 

"All,  and  more  than  all,"  she  quickly  answered. 
"  This,  Henry,  is,  indeed,  the  better  way,  and  my 
heart  is  full  of  thankfulness,  that  our  feet  have 
turned  aside  and  entered  its  narrow  bounds.  And 
it  is  easier  to  walk  herein  than  I  had  believed.  We 
have  but  to  make  the  effort  to  move  forward,  and 
God  gives  instant  strength.  The  lion  standing  with 
fierce  aspect  a  little  in  the  distance,  terrifies  us 
with  his  threatening  roar ;  but  as  we  approach, 
putting  our  confidence  in  Heaven,  we  see  the  chain 
that  holds  him,  powerless  for  harm.  If  some  enemy 
to  our  peace  make  a  sudden  and  malignant  assault, 
we  have  but  to  lift  the  sword-bearing  arm,  and 
more  than  a  giant's  strength  flows  in  from  heaven. 
It  is  not  a  vain  thing  to  put  our  trust  in  God.  But, 
tell  me  of  your  day's  experiences,  Henry.  How 
has  this  new  life  sustained  you  ?" 

The  eyes  of  Mr.  Lyon  fell  slowly  to  the  floor :  a 
shadow  dimmed  his  face ;  a  sigh  troubled  his 
bosom. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Mary,"  he  answered,  after  some 


FROM   DEATH   UNTO   LIFE.  31 

moments,  that,  but,  for  your  more  practical  view., 
of  this  question  of  religion,  I  should  be  lower  down 
in  the  valley  of  discouragement  than  I  am  now.  I 
came  home  last  evening,  in  a  kind  of  ecstatic  condi 
tion  of  mind,  and  with  only  vague  notions  touching 
the  new  life  I  had  resolved  to  lead.  The  first 
shock  of  our  disorderly  home  staggered  me.  The 
transition  of  feeling  was  from  glowing  heat  to  sud 
den  cold.  I  was  bewildered,  and,  for  a  time,  in 
almost  hopeless  discouragement.  But,  I  was  really 
in  earnest,  and,  following  the  way  on  which  fell 
some  feeble  gleams  of  light,  and  acting  upon  some 
new  born  impulses  from  Heaven,  I  compelled  my 
self  to  open  the  long  unused  Bible,  and  to  read 
aloud,  not  knowing  how  you  womd  act,  or  what 
you  would  say.  Oh,  Mary !  When  you  turned  to 
me  in  the  right  spirit,  my  heart  leaped  upwards,  as 
if  a  crushing  weight  had  been  suddenly  removed. 
Then,  as  we  conversed,  I  found  your  perceptions  go 
ing  right  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  whole  question 
of  religion,  as  a  matter  of  self-conquest  and  right 
living ;  and  you  lifted  my  reason  up  into  just  con 
clusion.  So  we  helped,  and  encouraged  one  an 
other.  I  saw,  that,  if  indeed,  I  had  passed,  as  some 
Bay,  from  death  unto  life,  I  was  not  a  strong  man, 


32  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

but,  an  almost  helpless  infant,  and  that  growth  and 
development  were  as  necessary  to  my  spiritual 
manhood,  as  to  the  manhood  of  natural  and  rational 
life.  All  day  long  I  have  been  thinking  over  that 
matter  of  the  new  birth,  Mary,  and  I  am  sure, 
taking  the  experiences  of  this  day  as  conclusive  on 
the  subject,  that,  but  for  the  help  you  afforded  me 
last  night,  I  should  have  given  way  to  overwhelm 
ing  doubts.  I  found,  when  any  evil  allurement 
came,  that  evil  desire  was  not  extinguished ;  only, 
that  a  desire  for  the  opposite  good  was  born.  If 
you  had  not  helped  me  to  think  of  the  new  birth 
as  only  the  first  beginning  of  a  spiritual  state,  I 
would  have,  I  fear,  abandoned  all  as  a  delusion ;  for, 
if  I  were  really  a  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus — if 
I  had  passed  from  death  unto  life — taking  these 
things  in  their  broader  meanings — how  could  I  still 
have  evil  desires  ?  But  light  came,  and  strength 
with  light.  If  good  impulses  were  very  feeble,  yet, 
when  I  looked  up,  and  made  an  effort  to  do  right, 
help  came.  Sometimes  I  was  taken  off  my  guard, 
and  stricken  down  in  a  moment.  But,  at  that 
point  I  placed  a  sentinel.  So  you  see  that  I  have 
been  at  work  in  good  earnest — though  little  has 
been  done.  I  do  not  feel  greatly  encouraged ;  and 


FROM   DEATH    UNTO   LIFE.  35 

yet,  hope  rests  on  a  strong  foundation.  Reason  ap 
preciates  and  judgment  approves  the  mode  of 
regeneration,  that  seem  to  me  like  steps  towards  a 
mountain  height,  or  ascending  spirals,  gradually 
bearing  the  soul  upwards  to  heaven." 

"  His  "Word,"  said  Mrs.  Lyon,  reverently,  as  her 
husband  paused,  "  shall  be  a  lamp  unto  our  feet, 
and  a  light  unto  our  path.  I  think  we  have  begun 
right.  God  sees  the  desire  of  our  hearts,  and  will 

fo  ' 

give  us  the  needed  strength  in  every  time  of  trial. 
"We  will  look  to  him  in  prayer,  and  in  his  Holy 
Word ;  and  He  will  not  hide  from  us  the  light  of 
his  countenance.  Your  day's  experience  is  like 
my  own ;  and  if  in  anything  I  happened  to  say, 
you  found  strength,  I  must  own  that  from  youi 
fitly  spoken  suggestions,  came  to  me  a  world  of  aid 
and  comfort.  Without  them,  I  think  I  must  have 
fallen  by  the  way." 

How  much  depends  on  a  right  beginning.  We 
see  it  in  this  single  day's  experience  of  two  who 
had  resolved  to  lead  the  life  of  heaven — a  life,  not 
of  mere  feeling,  but  of  doing.  Not  of  pious  acts 
and  the  formal  worship  of  the  sanctuary  alone,  but 
a  life  of  daily  self-denial  and  good  deeds.  They 
had  begun  right,  adding,  to  prayer  and  faith, 
2* 


34  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

effort — meeting  temptation  with  the  armor  on,  and 
battling  for  the  victory.  They  had,  indeed,  passed 
from  death  unto  life ;  and  though  only  yet,  as  it 
were,  babes  in  Christ,  the  first  fruits  of  the  new 
birth  were  plainly  visible.  Of  such  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven. 

Few  of  those  who  begin  the  Christian  pilgrimage 
in  a  like  spirit  ever  turn  aside,  or  go  back  again 
into  their  old  ways.  Every  step  is  an  advance  in 
the  regenerate  life ;  every  strife  with  the  powers 
of  hell  gives  strength  or  victory ;  every  night  of 
temptation,  but  precedes  the  surely  coming  dawn 
of  a  brighter  day.  Religion,  to  be  of  any  real  use 
to  a  man,  must  come  down  into  all  his  daily  duties, 
and  regulate  his  actions  by  a  divine  standard.  It 
must  make  him  patient,  thoughtful  of  others,  self- 
denying,  watchful  against  evil,  and,  above  all,  just 
in  even  the  smallest  things,  towards  his  fellow- 
man.  For,  no  matter  how  externally  pious  a  man 
may  be  ;  no  matter  how  faithfully  he  may  attend 
upon  the  ordinances  of  the  church ;  if  he  love  not 
his  neighbor,  he  cannot  have  God's  love  in  his 
heart,  and  all  who  think  and  act  differently  are 
yielding  to  a  fatal  delusion. 


AS    WE   FORGIVE.  35 


II. 

AS  WE  FOKGIVE. 

"  HE  must  pay  it."  The  voice  that  said  this  was 
firm,  and  the  tone  decided. 

"  I  think  he  is  very  poor,  Mr.  Glenn,"  answered 
the  collector,  who  was  making  his  weekly  return. 

"  No  matter ;  poor  people  must  pay  their  debts 
as  well  as  rich  ones.  I  can't  undertake  to  supply 
the  family  of  every  poor  man  in  the  city  with 
shoes.  There  wouldn't  be  a  pair  left  for  my  own 
children's  feet,  if  I  undertook  such  a  piece  of 
Quixotic  benevolence." 

And  Mr.  Glenn  smiled  a  little  grimly,  as  if  there 
were  something  of  humor  in  the  closing  sentence. 

"  It  strikes  me  that  there  is  an  exception  in  this 
case,"  remarked  the  collector. 

"  None  at  all — none  at  all,"  replied  the  dealer  in 
boots  and  shoes.  "  Poor  people  must  be  honest  as 
well  as  rich  ones,  and  not  buy  more  than  they  are 


36  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

able  to  pay  for.  Horton  must  settle.  There  is  no 
use  in  his  trying  to  shirk  out  of  it." 

"  He  has  been  sick." 

"  Well,  what  of  that  ?  Other  poor  men  are  not 
exempt  from  sickness.  It  is  the  common  lot.  Let 
him  do  something,  if  it  is  ever  so  little,  and  thus 
show  an  honest  disposition." 

"  It  is  hard  to  do  something  with  nothing,"  said 
the  collector. 

"  How  does  he  live  ?  He  eats  and  drinks,  doesn't 
he  ?"  interrogated  Mr.  Glenn. 

"  I  suppose  so,  and  his  wife  and  children  also." 

"  Does  he  steal  the  money  he  lives  on  ?" 

"  I  didn't  investigate  the  case  that  far,"  replied 
the  collector,  showing  a  little  annoyance. 

"  He  earns  it,  no  doubt.  And  there  is  one  thing 
I  have  to  say  in  the  matter — while  Horton  is  in 
debt  he  has  no  right  to  spend  all  he  earns.  He 
should  pay  off  something,  if  it  is  ever  so  small  a 
portion,  of  what  is  due  to  others.  That  is  being 
simply  honest." 

"  He  has  four  little  children  ;  his  wife  is  in  bad 
health,  and  he  is  working  on  three-quarter  time. 
I  am  sure,  Mr.  Glenn,  that  he  cannot,  as  things 
now  are,  pay  anything  on  your  bill,  without  actu- 


AS    WE   FOKGIVE.  37 

ally  diminishing  the  supply  of  food,  or  being  turned 
out  of  house  and  home. 

"  Oh  !  he  pays  his  rent,  then,  does  he  ?" 

"  He  said  that  his  landlord  was  a  very  close  man, 
and  required  the  rent  weekly.  That  he  had  got  a 
little  behindhand  with  him,  and  was  compelled  not 
only  to  pay  up  the  current  rent,  but  a  certain  sum 
on  what  was  due,  at  the  same  time,  or  have  his 
things  put  into  the  street." 

"  I  see.  He  will  pay  only  on  compulsion.  If 
that  is  his  game,  we  will  accommodate  him.  Just 
call  and  say,  that  unless  he  shows  some  disposition 
to  settle,  that  I  will  send  a  constable  after  him." 

"  I  wouldn't  take  that  course,  Mr.  Glenn.  His 
intentions  are  honest,  I  am  certain.  But  things 
have  gone  wrong  with  him,  and  he  is  very  much 
under  the  weather." 

"  Good  intentions  don't  save  any  one.  There 
must  be  good  deeds.  Nothing  else  will  pass  cur 
rent  here,  or  hereafter.  Let  Horton  show  his 
honest  purpose  by  beginning  to  do  honest  acts. 
Nothing  less  will  satisfy  me.  Can't  he  pay  twenty- 
five  cents  a  week?" 

"  He  might  do  so,  I  presume." 

"  Yery  well,  let  him  begin  at  that  figure.    Tell 


38  STEPS   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 

him  that  so  long  as  he  pays  twenty-five  cents  a 
week,  punctually,  I  will  not  disturb  him ;  but  on 
the  first  failure  he  may  expect  to  see  the  constable." 

"  I  must  decline  being  the  bearer  of  that  mes 
sage,"  replied  the  collector.  "  I  would  rather  pay 
twenty-five  cents  a  week  out  of  my  own  pocket, 
than  be  your  agent  in  any  such  business." 

The  face  of  Mr.  Glenn  grew  red  with  anger, 
and  he  said,  sharply — 

"  I  want  none  of  your  reflections  on  my  acts  or 
purposes.  As  you  have  undertaken  my  collections, 
I  wish  the  work  done  as  I  direct.  The  responsibil 
ity  rests  with  me." 

"  Take  my  advice,"  returned  the  collector  coolly, 
"  and  forgive  this  poor  man  his  debt.  It  amounts 
to  only  seven  dollars,  and  its  loss  will  not  deprive 
you  of  a  single  comfort,  while  the  act  will  relieve 
him  from  a  heavy  burden.  lie  is  honest ;  and  will 
pay  you,  if  it  is  ever  in  his  power,  whether  you 
cancel  the  obligation  or  not." 

"  You  are  generous  with  what  is  not  your  own," 
said  Glenn,  with  sarcasm.  "Thank  you  for  the 
suggestion ;  but  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  trusting 
people  and  then  forgiving  them  the  debt.  That  sort 
of  thing  doesn't  pay." 


AS   WE   FOKGIVE.  39 

"  It  does  in  some  cases,"  remarked  the  collector, 
speaking  partly  to  himself. 

"  It  will  not  pay  in  this,  for  I  don't  mean  to  try 
the  foolish  experiment,"  answered  Glenn. 

Turning  towards  this  hard  man,  who  was  a  mem 
ber  of  one  of  the  churches,  the  collector — who  was 
also  a  church-member,  but  of  a  different  stamp — 
looked  him  steadily  in  the  face  for  some  momenta, 
and  then  said 

"  When  you  kneel  before  God  this  evening,  and, 
in  praying,  say  over  the  words,  '  Forgive  us  our 
debts  as  we  forgive  our  debtors,'  take  heed  that 
you  are  not  asking  for  a  curse  instead  of  a  blessing. 
If  God  forgives  you  as  you  now  forgive  this  poor 
man,  the  case  will  not  assume  a  very  hopeful  as 
pect.  '  But  if  ye  forgive  not  men  their  trespasses, 
neither  will  your  Father  forgive  your  trespasses? 
The  language  is  not  mine :  I  but  recall  to  your 
memory  the  words  of  eternal  truth.  Beware,  lest, 
knowing  these,  you  have  the  greater  condemna 
tion." 

Saying  this,  the  collector  turned  away,  and  left 
Mr  Glenn  to  his  own  not  very  pleasant  thoughts. 

That  evening,  in  family  worship,  Mr.  Glenn  said 
over  the  Lord's  Prayer.  If  the  collector  had  beeu 


40  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

present,  lie  would  have  o'bserved  a  faltering  in  the 
words,  "  As  we  forgive  our  debtors"  He  had  nevei 
before  understood  them  as  now,  though  he  had 
repeated  these  words  a  thousand  times  since  they 
were  taught  to  him  by  his  mother  in  childhood 
All  at  once  they  had  assumed  a  new  and  startling 
significance.  *  Forgive  us  our  debts  as  we  forgive 
our  debtors !'  Here  was  no  vague  petition,  but  a 
plain  request  to  be  dealt  by  as  the  petitioner  dealt 
by  his  neighbor.  '  With  what  measure  ye  meet,  it 
shall  be  measured  to  you  again"  The  memory  of 
this  passage,  also,  grew  quite  distinct  in  the  mind 
of  Mr.  Glenn,  and  it  seemed  also  as  if  spoken 
aloud  in  his  ears.  Conscience  was  at  work,  and 
fear  troubling  him. 

"  "What  if  my  soul  should  be  required  of  me  this 
night  ?"  A  sudden  shiver  ran  through  his  nerves 
as  this  thought  presented  itself. 

"  God  has  heard  and  answered  some  of  my 
prayers,"  said  Mr.  Glenn,  as  he  sat  apart  from  his 
family,  pondering  this  new  aspect  of  the  case.  "  I 
asked  Him,  at  the  outset  of  life,  to  be  with  me  in 
my  incomings  and  outgoings  ;  to  smile  upon  my 
toil,  and  send  the  rain  of  prosperity  upon  my 
fields.  And  he  has  done  so.  I  have  prayed  also 


AS    WE   FORGIVE.  4:1 

from  childhood,  onward  to  this  time,  tha;  he  would 
forgive  me  my  debts  as  I  forgiven  my  debtors. 
Now,  have  I  ever,  in  my  heart,  forgiven  the  man 
who  trespassed  against  me?  or  refrained  from 
exacting  from  a  debtor  the  last  farthing,  no  matter 
what  his  needs  and  circumstances  ?  Have  I  re 
garded  my  brother  in  sickness  or  misfortune  ?  Has 
pity  touched  my  soul,  when  the  unhappy  debtor 
has  pleaded  for  respite  or  forgiveness?  Should 
God  answer  my  oft-repeated  prayer  in  this,  will  it 
not  be  in  banishment  from  his  presence?" 

For  hours  that  night,  Mr.  Glenn  lay  tossing  on 
his  bed,  fearing  to  sleep,  lest  his  awakening  should 
be  in  another  world ;  but,  wearied  nature  yielded 
at  last,  and  then  in  visions  of  his  bed,  he  closed  up 
his  mortal  career,  and  passed  to  his  final  account. 
But,  no  "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant 
greeted  him  1"  Instead  there  burned  before  him  in 
letters  of  flame,  turn  which  way  he  would — "  With 
what  measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be  measured  to  you 
again."  He  closed  his  eyes — "  As  we  forgive  our 
debtors,"  were  gleaming  in  their  place,  though  he 
tried  to  shut  out  the  vision  of  all  things.  In  terrible 
anguish  he  awoke.  Again  he  slept,  and  the  vision 
was  repeated.  And  once  again,  ere  the  day  broke. 


42  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

Mr.  Glenn  assembled  his  household  for  morning 
worship  as  usual ;  and  read  a  chapter  from  the 
Bible.  His  voice  was  low,  and  humble.  The  pe 
tition  that  followed  was  brief ;  and  members  of  his 
family  noticed,  as  an  unusual  thing,  that  he  failed  to 
conclude  with  the  Lord's  Prayer.  His  first  act,  on 
going  to  his  store,  was  to  send  Mr.  Horton,  the 
poor  debtor  for  whom  the  humane  collector  had 
pleaded,  a  receipt  in  full,  thus  cancelling  the  debt. 
He  felt  more  comfortable  after  this ;  but  still,  a 
weight  of  concern  lay  upon  his  heart.  Here  was 
a  new  reading  of  the  Divine  precept,  and  one  that, 
if  accepted,  might,  he  feared,  require  a  degree  of 
sacrifice  that,  in  the  present  state  of  his  natural  af 
fections,  he  could  not  give.  The  law,  as  narrowing 
itself  down  to  his  most  literal  rendering  of  the  text, 
seemed  the  hardest  in  the  whole  code  of  Divine 
precepts. 

But,  Mr.  Glenn  had  begun  right.  If  we  con 
strain  ourselves  to  do  what  we  believe  the  law  of 
God  requires,  we  always  gain  power  over  depraving 
lusts,  and  selfish  affections.  "We  must  fight  against 
the  powers  of  hell,  or  there  will  be  no  conquest. 
We  must  put  away  evil,  before  angelic  loves  can 
flow  into  our  hearts.  The  case  of  Mr.  Glenn  is  an 


AS    WE   FOKGIVE.  43 

illustration.  The  reader  has  seen  how  hard  and 
cruel  were  all  his  feelings  towards  his  poor  debtor. 
Not  a  single  wave  of  pity  moved  over  his  heart — • 
not  a  pulse  of  commiseration  stirred.  It  was  dif 
ferent  however,  after  he  had  so  far  conquered  his 
Belfish  desire  for  gain,  as  to  cancel  the  debt.  Then 
pity  for  Horton  began  to  work  in  his  heart,  and 
draw  before  his  imagination  images  of  sickness, 
discouragement,  privation  and  suffering. 

"  Poor  man !  He  has  had  a  hard  time  of  it.  I 
am  glad  that  I  lifted  that  burden  from  his 
shoulders,"  he  said  to  himself  in  this  great  change 
of  state. 

And  now,  the  current  of  feeling  which  was  flow 
ing  in  the  right  direction,  began  to  set  stronger. 
Pity  is  not  a  mere  idler ;  but  a  door  of  good  deeds. 
Mr.  Glenn  began  to  feel  an  interest  in  the  poor 
man,  which  led  him  to  make  particular  in 
quiry  into  his  circumstances.  He  found  that 
help  was  really  needed,  and  with  a  cheerful  alacri 
ty  that  surprised  even  himself,  he  reached  out  his 
hand  to  raise  up  and  sustain  a  weak  and  falling 
brother.  It  was  the  beginning  of  a  new  life  for 
Mr.  Glenn,  and  one  in  which  this  small  experience 
showed  him  were  new  and  higher  pleasures  than 


44  BTEP8  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

any  he  had  ever  known — the  pleasures  that  always 
accompany  good  deeds  lovingly  performed. 

Some  weeks  passed,  before  he  again  ventured  to 
say  the  Lord's  Prayer,  in  family  worship.  But, 
when  the  petition  did  pass  his  lips,  it  was  in  the 
humble  hope  that  God  would  give  him  that  spirit 
of  forgiveness,  without  which  there  can  be  no  re 
mission  of  sins. 


HEAVENLY    MINDED.  45 


TIT. 
HEAYENLY-MIKDED. 

I  LISTENED  while  lie  talked  in  a  low,  serious,  ten 
der  voice.  He  was  speaking  of  the  home  in  heaven 
towards  which  his  heart  aspired. 

"  There  will  be  no  more  night  there,  nor  chilling 
winter,"  he  said ;  "  no  more  sorrow,  no  more  toil, 
no  more  pain ;  for  God  is  the  light  of  that  world, 
and  he  will  wipe  away  all  tears  from  our  eyes. 
How  often  do  I  find  myself  crying  out  with  the 
Psalmist,  <  Oh  that  I  had  wings  like  a  dove,  for 
then  would  I  fly  away,  and  be  at  rest !'  I  grow 
weary  with  waiting  every  day.  This  world  has 
no  attractions  to  offer  my  soul.  Its  atmosphere 
oppresses  me ;  its  ways  are  rough  to  my  feet ;  its 
touch  chills  me.  I  pray  continually,  O  Lord,  hide 
me  under  the  shadow  of  thy  wings,  until  the  storms 
of  lifa  are  over ;  shelter  me  from  the  burning  heats ; 
cover  me  from  the  winter's  cold." 


^6  STEPS   TOWAKDS   HEAVEN. 

Aiid  tlien  lie  sang  in  a  sweet,  impressive  way — 

"  Jerusalem,  my  happy  home  I 

Oh,  how  I  long  for  thee. 
When  will  my  sorrows  have  an  end  ? 
Thy  joys  when  shall  I  see  ?'' 

"  How  heavenly-minded  1"  I  heard  spoken  from 
one  to  another,  in  a  hushed  whisper. 

"He  is  ripe  for  the  kingdom,"  was  answered 
back. 

"  The  world  hangs  loosely  upon  him  as  a  worn- 
out  garment,  ready  to  be  cast  aside  when  the 
Master  summons  him  away.  God  has  endowed 
him  with  a  double  portion  of  his  Spirit." 

I  walked  thoughtfully  away  when  the  little  com 
pany  separated.  "  Is  it  indeed  so  ?"  I  questioned 
with  myself.  'Heavenly-minded?'  'Ripe  for  the 
kingdom  ?'  '  A  double  portion  of  God's  Spirit  rest 
ing  upon  him?"  What  is  it  to  be  heavenly- 
minded  ?  How  is  a  man  ripened  for  the  kingdom 
.of  God?" 

I  knew  a  little  of  the  man's  past  and  present. 
He  had  not  been  an  earnest  worker  in  the  world ; 
but,  rather,  an  idler  and  a  dreamer.  He  was  some 
thing  of  an  enthusiast,  and  had  the  reputation  of 


HEAVENLY   MINDED.  47 

being  "  gifted  in  prayer."  He  talked  much  on  the 
subject  of  religion,  and  spent  a  great  deal  of  time 
in  preparing  himself  for  heaven.  This  preparation 
consisted,  mainly,  in  pious  observances,  the  reading 
of  religious  books,  fasting  and  prayer.  In  business, 
lie  had  not  succeeded,  because  he  lacked  earnest 
ness,  prudence,  and  industry.  There  was,  to  his 
perception,  a  spirit  of  worldly-mindedness  in  these, 
opposed  to  religion.  It  was  a  letting  of  himself 
down  into  carnal  things,  that  were  death  to  the 
spiritn.  Ad  so  he  was  very  poor,  and  could  sing, 
and  did  sing,  with  feeling — 

"  No  foot  of  land  do  I  possess, 
Nor  cottage  in  the  wilderness — 

A  poor,  way-faring  man. 
I  lodge,  awhile,  in  tents  below, 
Or  gladly  wander  to  and  fro, 

Till  I  my  Canaan  gain." 

And  rather  took  merit  to  himself  for  his  poverty ; 
regarding  it  almost  as  one  of  the  Christian  graces. 

I  need  hardly  say,  that  the  wife  of  this  man  was 
a  toiler  beyond  her  strength,  and  that  his  children 
had  not  received  the  natural  and  moral  advan- 

« 

tages  that  their  father  might  have  procured  for 
them,  if  he  had  been  a  worker  in  the  world,  instead 


48  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

of  an  enthusiastic  dreamer.  The  burdens  of  others 
were  made  heavier,  because  he  had  failed  to  bear 
his  own  allotment;  and  evil  had  crept  in  at  the 
door  he  was  appointed  to  guard,  because  he  had 
slept  at  his  post.  And  yet  he  was  called  "  heavenly- 
minded,"  and  ripe  for  the  kingdom. 

As  I  mused,  reason  and  feeling  both  demurred. 
I  could  see  nothing  of  the  spirit  of  heaven  in  this ; 
but  only  the  delusion  of  an  unprofitable  servant. 
To  be  heavenly-minded,  is  to  be  in  the  love  of  good 
deeds ;  and  every  man  who,  from  a  religious  prin 
ciple,  acts  justly  and  faithfully  in  all  his  relations 
in  life,  is  a  doer  of  good  deeds.  He  only  can  be 
come  heavenly-minded ;  he  only  can  worship  God 
in  spirit  and  in  truth.  Praying  and  singing  are  of 
no  avail,  without  acting.  They  may  lift  the  thoughts 
heavenward;  but  only  as  our  feet  move  are  we 
borne  thitherward.  "We  are  in  the  world  for  work 
and  duty ;  and  we  cannot  be  righteous,  unless  we 
act  right  towards  our  fellow-men.  Belief  in  God, 
and  an  acknowledgment  of  his  holy  precepts,  are 
only  as  the  inception  of  spiritual  life ;  true  vitality 
and  Christian  manhood  are  the  results  of  right  liv 
ing.  It  is  the  good  and  faithful  servant  who  alone 
enters  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord  ;  only  he  who  per 


HEOVENLY   MINDED.  49 

forms  good  acts  to  the  children  of  men  is  ac 
cepted. 

It  is  easier  to  pray  than  to  work ;  easier  to  be 
lieve  a  certain  formula,  than  to  practise  self-denial ; 
easier  to  permit  the  feelings  to  lapse  sweetly  away 
under  the  influence  of  tranquillizing  music,  than  to 
compel  self-love  to  give  up  its  darling  scheme. 
But  only  in  the  degree  that  we  overcome  the  man 
of  sin,  who  is  ever  prompting  to  a  disregard  of 
others,  that  we  may  get  larger  worldly  benefits 
and  increased  natural  enjoyments,  do  we  receive 
true  spiritual  life,  and  advance  in  the  way  of  regen 
eration.  To  rest  a  hope  of  heaven  on  any  other 
ground,  is  a  most  fatal  delusion. 


50  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 


IY. 

WHEAT  OR  TARES. 

"  WHEAT  or  tares — which  are  you  sowing,  Fanny, 
dear,  in  the  mind  of  this  sweet  little  fellow  ?"  said 
Uncle  Lincoln  to  his  niece,  Mrs.  Howard,  as  he 
lifted  a  child  not  yet  beyond  his  fourth  summer 
upon  his  knee,  and  laid  one  of  his  hands  amid  the 
golden  curls  that  fell  about  his  neck,  and  clustered 
above  his  snowy  temples. 

"Wheat,  I  trust,  Uncle  Lincoln,"  replied  Mrs. 
Howard,  smiling,  yet  serious.  "  It  is  the  enemy 
who  sows  tares — and  I  am  his  mother." 

There  was  a  glow  of  proud  feeling  in  the  coun 
tenance  of  Mrs.  Howard,  as  she  said,  "I  am  his 
mother." 

It  was  Mr.  Lincoln's  first  visit  to  his  niece  since 
her  marriage  and  removal  to  the  city,  some  hun 
dreds  of  miles  away  from  her  old  home. 

"  Even  a  mother's  hand  may  sow  tares,"  said  the 


WHEAT   OK   TARES.  51 

old  gentleman.  "  I  have  seen  it  done  many  times. 
Not  of  design,  but  in  thoughtless  inattention  to 
the  quality  of  the  seed  she  holds  in  her  hand.  The 
enemy  mixes  tares  with  the  wheat,  quite  as  often 
as  he  scatters  evil  seed.  The  husbandman  must 
not  only  watch  his  fields  by  night  and  by  day,  but 
also  the  repositories  of  his  grain,  lest  the  enemy 
cause  him  to  sow  tares  as  well  as  wheat  upon  his 
own  fruitful  ground." 

"  Willie,"  said  Mrs.  Howard,  speaking  to  her  little 
boy  about  ten  minutes  afterwards,  "  don't  upset  my 
work-basket.  Stop !  Stop,  I  say,  you  little  rogue !" 

Seeing  that  the  wayward  child  did  not  mean  to 
heed  her  words,  the  mother  started  forwards,  but 
not  in  time  to  prevent  the  spools  of  cotton,  scissors, 
needles,  emery-cushion,  etc.,  from  being  scattered 
about  the  floor. 

Willie  laughed  in  great  glee  at  his  exploit,  while 
Mrs.  Howard  gathered  up  the  contents  of  the 
work-basket,  which  she  now  placed  on  a  shelf 
above  the  reach  of  her  mischievous  boy.  Then 
she  shook  her  finger  at  him  in  mock  resentment, 
saying— 

"You  little  sinner!  If  you  do  that  again,  I'H 
send  you  off  with  the  milkman." 


52  BTEPB   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 

"  Wheat  or  tares,  Fanny  ?"  Uncle  Lincoln 
looked  sober! y  at  his  niece. 

"  Neither,"     replied     Mrs.     Howard,     smiling 

gayly. 

"  Tares,"  said  Uncle  Lincoln,  emphatically. 

"  Nonsense,  uncle !" 

"  The  tares  of  disobedience,  Fanny.  You  have 
planted  the  seed,  and  it  has  already  taken  root. 
Nothing  will  choke  out  the  wheat  sooner.  The 
tares  of  falsehood  you  also  threw  in  upon  the 
newly-broken  soil.  What  are  you  thinking  about, 
my  child  ?" 

"  The  tares  of  falsehood,  Uncle  Lincoln !  What 
are  you  thinking  about?"  said  Mrs.  Howard,  in 
real  surprise. 

"  Did  you  not  say  that  you  would  send  him  off 
with  the  milkman  if  he  did  so  again  ?  I  wonder  if 
he  believed  you  ?" 

"  Of  course  he  did  not." 

"Then,"  said  Uncle  Lincoln,  "he  has  already 
discovered  that  his  mother  makes  but  light  account 
of  truth.  Will  his  mother  be  surprised  if  he  should 
grow  to  set  small  value  upon  his  word  ?" 

"  You  treat  the  matter  too  seriously,  uncle.  He 
knows  that  I  am  only  playing  with  him." 


WHEAT   OK   TARES.  £3 

"  He  knows  that  you  are  telling  him  what  is  not 
true,"  replied  Mr.  Lincoln. 

"  It  was  only  in  sport,"  said  Fanny,  persistently. 

"  But  in  sport  with  sharp-edged  instruments — 
playing  with  deadly  poisons."  The  old  gentleman 
looked  and  spoke  with  the  seriousness  that  oppres 
sed  his  feelings.  "  Fanny !  Fanny !  Truth  and 
obedience  are  good  seeds ;  falsehood  and  disobedi 
ence  are  tares  from  the  Evil  One.  Whatever  you 
plant  in  the  garden  of  your  child's  mind  will  grow, 
and  the  harvest  will  be  wheat  or  tares,  just  as 
you  have  sown." 

Mrs.  Howard  did  not  reply,  but  her  countenance 
took  on  a  sober  cast. 

"Willie,"  said  she,  a  few  minutes  afterwards, 
"  go  down  to  Jane  and  tell  her  to  bring  me  a  glass 
of  water." 

Willie,  who  was  amusing  himself  with  some 
pictures,  looked  up  on  hearing  his  name.  But  as 
he  did  not  feel  like  going  off  to  the  kitchen,  he 
made  no  response,  and  let  his  eyes  return  to  the 
pictures,  in  which  he  had  become  interested. 

"Willie  (Mrs.  Howard  spoke  with  decision), 
"  did  you  hear  me  ?" 

"  I  don't  want  to  go,"  answered  Willie. 


54:  STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  Go  this  minute !" 

"  I'm  afraid." 

"  Go,  I  say !" 

"  I'm  afraid." 

"  Afraid  of  what  ?"  inquired  the  mother. 

"  Afraid  of  the  cat." 

"  No,  you  are  not.  The  cat  never  hurt  you,  nor 
any  body  else." 

"I'm  afraid  of  the  milkman.  You  said  he 
should  carry  me  off." 

"The  milkman  is  not  down  stairs,"  said  Mrs. 
Howard,  her  face  beginning  to  crimson ;  "  he  only 
comes  in  the  morning." 

"  Yes,  he  is.  I  heard  his  wagon  a  little  while 
ago,  and  he's  talking  with  Jane  now.  Don't  you 
hear  him  ?"  the  little  fellow  put  on,  with  remark 
able  skill,  all  the  semblances  of  truth  in  his  tone 
and  expression. 

Mrs.  Howard  did  not  look  towards  her  uncle ; 
she  was  afraid  to  do  that. 

"Willie,"  (the  mother  spoke  very  seriously), 
"  you  know  the  milkman  is  not  down  stairs ;  and 
you  know  that  you  are  not  afraid  of  the  cat. 
"What  you  have  said,  therefore,  is  not  true ;  and 
it  is  wicked  to  utter  a  falsehood." 


WHEAT   OK   TAKES.  55 

"  Ho  !  ho !"  laughed  out  the  bright-eyed  little 
fellow,  evidently  amused  at  his  own  sharpness, 
"  then  you're  wicked,  for  you  tell  what  is  not  true 
every  day." 

"Willie!" 

"  The  milkman  hasn't  carried  me  off  yet !" 

There  was  a  world  of  meaning  in  "Willie's  coun 
tenance  and  voice. 

You  hav'n't  whipped  me  for  throwing  my  cap 
out  of  the  window." 

"Willie!"  ejaculated  the  astonished  mother. 

"D'ye  see  that?"  and  the  young  rebel  drew 
from  his  apron  pocket  a  fine  mosaic  breast-pin, 
which  he  had  positively  been  forbidden  to  touch, 
and  held  it  up  with  a  look  of  mingled  triumph  and 
defiance. 

"  You  little  wretch  1"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Howard ; 
"  this  is  going  too  far !"  and  springing  towards  her 
boy,  she  grappled  him  in  her  arms,  and  fled  with 
him,  struggling  from  the  room. 

It  was  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  she  returned, 
alone,  to  the  apartment  where  she  had  left  her 
uncle.  Her  face  was  sober,  and  her  eyes  betrayed 
recent  tears. 

"Wheat  or  tares,  Fanny?"  said  the  old  gentle- 


56  STEPS   TOWARDS   IIEAVEN. 

man,  in  kind  but  earnest  tones,  as  his  niece  came 
back. 

"  Tares,"  was  the  half-mournful  response. 

"  Wheat  were  better,  Fanny." 

"  I  see  it,  uncle." 

And  you  will  look  well  in  future  to  the  seed  in 
your  hand,  ere  you  scatter  it  upon  the  heart  of 
your  child." 

"  God  helping  me,  I  will,  dear  uncle." 

"  Remember,  Fanny,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln,  "  that 
truth  and  obedience  are  good  seed.  Plant  them, 
and  the  harvest-time  will  come  in  blessing.  As  a 
Christian  mother,  this  is  one  of  your  highest  and 
most  sacred  duties.  God  has  given  you  a  child 
that  you  may  raise  him  for  heaven ;  and  he  has 
furnished  you  with  an  abundant  supply  of  the 
precious  seeds  of  love,  truth,  tenderness,  and  mercy 
to  sow  in  his  mind.  Oh,  scatter  them  broadcast 
over  the  rich  soil  prepared  to  receive  them,  and 
they  will  take  root,  spring  up,  and  bear  an  abun 
dance  of  good  fruit  in  the  harvest-time  of  his  life." 


16   HE   A   CHRISTIAN? 


Y. 

IS  HE  A  CHKIST1AK? 

"  Is  he  a  Christian  ? 

The  question  reached  my  ear  as  I  sat  conversing 
with  a  friend,  and  I  paused  in  the  sentence  I  was 
uttering,  to  note  the  answer. 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  he  is  a  Christian,"  was  replied. 

"  I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  you  say  so.  I  was  not 
aware  of  it  before,"  said  the  other. 

"Yes  ;  he  has  passed  from  death  unto  life.  Last 
week,  in  the  joy  of  his  new  birth,  he  united  himself 
to  the  church,  and  is  now  in  fellowship  with  the 
saints." 

"  "What  a  blessed  change  !" 

"  Blessed,  indeed.  Another  soul  saved ;  an 
other  added  to  the  great  company  of  those  who 
have  washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white,  in 
the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  There  is  joy  in  heaven  on 
his  account." 

3* 


58  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  Of  whom  are  they  speaking  ?"  I  asked,  turning 
to  my  friend. 

"  Of  Fletcher  Gray,  I  believe,"  was  replied. 

"  Few  men  stood  more  in  need  of  Christian 
graces,"  said  I.  "  If  he  is,  indeed,  numbered  with 
the  saints,  there  is  cause  for  rejoicing." 

"  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them,"  responded 
my  friend.  "  I  will  believe  his  claim  to  the  title 
of  Christian,  when  I  see  the  fruit  in  good  living. 
If  he  have  truly  passed  from  death  unto  life,  as 
they  say,  he  will  work  the  works  of  righteousness. 
A  sweet  fountain  will  not  send  forth  bitter 
waters." 

My  friend  but  expressed  my  own  sentiments  in 
this,  and  all  like  cases.  I  have  learned  to  put 
small  trust  in  "  profession ;"  to  look  past  the  Sun 
day  and  prayer-meeting  piety  of  people,  and  to 
estimate  religious  quality  by  the  standard  of  the 
Apostle  James.  There  must  be  genuine  love  of  the 
neighbor,  before  there  can  be  a  love  of  God ;  for 
neighborly  love  is  the  ground  in  which  that  higher 
and  purer  love  takes  root.  It  is  all  in  vain  to  talk 
of  love  as  a  mere  ideal  thing.  Love  is  an  active 
principle,  and,  according  to  its  quality,  works.  If 
the  love  be  heavenly,  it  will  show  itself  in  good 


18   HE   A   CHRISTIAN?  59 

deeds  to  the  neighbor ;  but,  if  infernal,  in  acts  of 
selfishness  that  disregard  the  neighbor. 

O  O 

"I  will  observe  this  Mr.  Gray,"  said  I,  as  I 
walked  homeward  from  the  company,  "  and  see 
whether  the  report  touching  him  be  trte.  If  he  is, 
indeed,  a  '  Christian,'  as  they  affirm,  the  Chris 
tian  graces  of  meekness  and  charity  will  blossom 
in  his  life,  and  make  all  the  air  around  him 
fragrant." 

Opportunity  soon  came.  Fletcher  Gray  was  a 
storekeeper,  and  his  life  in  the  world  was,  conse 
quently,  open  to  the  observation  of  all  men.  He 
was  likewise  a  husband  and  a  father.  His  rela 
tions  were,  therefore,  of  a  character  to  give,  daily, 
a  test  of  his  true  quality. 

It  was  only  the  day  after,  that  I  happened  to 
meet  Mr.  Gray  under  circumstances  favorable  to 
observation.  He  came  into  the  store  of  a  merchant 
with  whom  I  was  transacting  some  business,  and 
asked  the  price  of  certain  goods  in  the  market.  I 
moved  aside,  and  watched  him  narrowly.  There 
was  a  marked  change  in  the  expression  of  his 
countenance  and  in  the  tones  of  his  voice.  The 
former  had  a  sober,  almost  solemn  expression ;  the 
latter  was  subdued,  even  to  plaintiveness.  But,  ID 


60  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

a  little  while,  these  peculiarities  gradually  disap 
peared,  and  the  aforetime  Mr.  Gray  stood  there 
unchanged — unchanged,  not  only  in  appearance, 
but  in  character.  There  was  nothing  of  the  "  yea, 
yea,"  and  "  nay,  nay,"  spirit  in  his  bargain-making, 
but  an  eager,  wordy  effort  to  gain  an  advantage  in 
trade.  I  noticed  that,  in  the  face  of  an  assevera 
tion  that  only  five  per  cent,  over  cost  was  asked  for 
a  certain  article,  he  still  endeavored  to  procure  it 
at  a  lower  figure  than  was  named  by  the  seller,  and 
finally  crowded  him  down  to  the  exact  cost,  know 
ing,  as  he  did,  that  the  merchant  had  a  large  stock 
on  hand  and  could  not  well  afford  to  hold  it 
over. 

"He's  a  sharper !"  said  the  merchant,  turning 
•  towards  me  as  Gray  left  the  store. 

"  He's  a  Christian,  they  say,"  was  my  quiet  re 
mark. 

"A  Christian!" 

"  Yes  ;  don't  you  know  that  he  has  become  reli 
gious,  and  joined  the  church?" 

"  You're  joking !" 

"  Not  a  word  of  it.  Didn't  you  observe  his  sub 
dued,  meek  aspect,  when  he  came  in  ?" 

"  Why,  yes ;  now  that  you  refer  to  it,  I  do  remem- 


IS   HE   A   CHRISTIAN?  61 

her  a  certain  peculiarity  about  him.  Become 
pious  !  Joined  the  church !  Well,  I'm  sorry !" 

"  For  what  ?  i 

"Sorry  for  the  injury  he  will  clo  to  a  good  cause* 
The  religion  that  makes  a  man  a  better  husband, 
father,  man  of  business,  lawyer,  doctor,  or  preacher, 
I  reverence,  for  it  is  genuine,  as  the  lives  of  those 
who  accept  it  do  testify.  But  your  hypocritical 
pretenders  I  scorn  and  execrate." 

"  It  is,  perhaps,  almost  too  strong  language  this, 
as  applied  to  Mr.  Gray,"  said  I. 

"  What  is  a  hypocrite  ?"  asked  the  merchant. 

"  A  man  who  puts  on  the  semblance  of  Christian 
virtues  which  he  does  not  possess." 

"  And  that  is  what  Mr.  Gray  does  when  he  as 
sumes  to  be  religious.  A  true  Christian  is  just. 
"Was  he  just  to  me  when  he  crowded  me  down  in 
the  price  of  my  goods,  and  robbed  me  of  a  living 
profit,  in  order  that  he  might  secure  a  double  gain  ? 
I  think  not.  There  is  not  even  the  live  and  let  live 
principle  in  that.  No — no,  sir.  If  he  has  joined 
the  church,  my  word  for  it,  there  is  a  black  sheep 
in  the  fold  ;  or,  I  might  say,  without  abuse  of  lan 
guage,  a  wolf  therein,  disguised  in  sheep's 
clothing." 


62  STEPS   TOWAKD8   HEAVEN. 

"  Give  the  man  time,"  said  I.  "  Old  habits  of 
life  are  strong,  you  know.  In  a  little  while,  I  trust 
that  he  will  see  clearer,  and  regulate  his  life  from 
perceptions  of  higher  truths." 

"  I  thought  his  heart  was  changed,"  answered 
the  merchant,  with  some  irony  in  his  tones.  "  That 
he  had  been  made  a  new  creature." 

I  did  not  care  to  discuss  that  point  with  him,  and 
so  merely  answered. 

"The  beginnings  of  spiritual  life,  are  as  the 
beginnings  of  natural  life.  The  babe  is  born  in 
feebleness,  and  we  must  wait  through  the  periods  of 
infancy,  childhood,  and  youth,  before  we  can  have 
the  strong  man  ready  for  the  burden  and  heat  of 
the  day,  or  full-armed  for  the  battle.  If  Mr.  Gray 
is  in  the  first  effort  to  lead  a  Christian  life,  that  is 
something.  He  will  grow  wiser  and  better  in  time, 
I  hope." 

"  There  is  vast  room  for  improvement,"  said  the 
merchant.  "  In  my  eyes,  he  is,  at  this  time,  only 
a  hypocritical  pretender.  I  hope,  for  the  sake  of 
the  world  and  the  church  both,  that  his  new  associ 
ates  will  make  something  better  out  of  him." 

I  went  away,  pretty  much  of  the  merchant's 
opinion.  My  next  meeting  with  Mr.  Gray  was  in 


IS    HE   A   CHRISTIAN?  63 

the  shop  of  a  mechanic  to  whom  he  had  sold  a  bill 
of  goods  some  months  previously.  He  had  called 
to  collect  a  portion  of  the  amount  which  remained 
unpaid.  The  mechanic  was  not  ready  for  him. 

"I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Gray,"  he  began,  with  some 
hesitation  of  manner. 

"  Sorry  for  what  ?"  sharply  interrupted  Mr. 
Gray. 

"  Sorry  that  I  have  not  the  money  to  settle  your 
bill.  I  have  been  disappointed " 

"  I  don't  want  that  old  story.  You  promised  to  be 
ready  for  me  to-day,  didn't  you  ?"  And  Mr.  Gray 
knit  his  brows,  and  looked  angry  and  imperative. 

"  Yes,  I  promised.    But " 

"  Then  keep  your  promise.  No  man  has  a  right 
to  break  his  word.  Promises  are  sacred  things, 
and  should  be  kept  religiously." 

"  If  my  customers  had  kept  their  promises  to  me, 
there  would  have  been  no  failure  in  mine  to  you," 
answered  the  poor  mechanic. 

"  It  is  of  no  use  to  plead  other  men's  failings  in 
justification  of  your  own.  You  said  the  bill  should 
be  settled  to-day  ;  and  I  calculated  upon  it.  Now, 
of  all  things  in  the  world,  I  hate  trifling.  I  shall 
not  call  again,  sir  I" 


64  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  If  you  were  to  call  forty  times,  and  I  hadn't 
the  money  to  settle  your  account,  you  would  call 
,n  vain,"  said  the  mechanic,  showing  considerable 
disturbance  of  mind. 

"  You  needn't  add  insult  to  wrong."  Mr.  Gray's 
countenance  reddened,  and  he  looked  angry. 

"  If  there  is  insult  in  the  case,  it  is  on  your  part ; 
not  mine,"  retorted  the  mechanic,  with  more  feel 
ing.  "  I  am  not  a  digger  of  gold  out  of  the  earth, 
nor  a  coiner  of  money.  I  must  be  paid  for  my 
work  before  I  can  pay  the  bills  I  owe.  It  was  not 
enough  that  I  told  you  of  the  failure  of  my  cus 
tomers  to  meet  their  engagements " 

"  You've  no  business  to  have  such  customers — " 
broke  in  Mr.  Gray — "  No  right  to  take  my  goods 
and  sell  them  to  men  who  are  not  honest  enough 
to  pay  their  bills." 

"  One  of  them  is  your  own  son,"  replied  the 
mechanic,  goaded  beyond  endurance.  "Ilis  bill 
is  equal  to  half  of  yours.  I  have  sent  for  the 
amount  a  great  many  times,  but  still  he  puts  me 
off  with  excuses.  I  will  send  it  to  you,  next  time." 

This  was  thrusting  home  with  a  sharp  sword, 
and  the  vanquished  Mr.  Gray  retreated  from  the 
dattle  field,  bearing  a  painful  wound." 


IS    TIE    A   CHRISTIAN?  65 

"  That  wasn't  right  in  me,  I  know,"  said  the 
mechanic,  as  Gray  left  his  shop.  "  I'm  sorry,  now, 
that  I  said  it.  But  he  pressed  me  too  closely.  I 
am  but  human." 

"He  is  a  hard,  exacting,  money-loving  man," 
was  my  remark. 

"  They  tell  me  he  has  become  a  Christian,"  said 
the  mechanic.  "Has  got  religion — been  con 
verted.  Is  that  so  ?" 

"  It  is  common  report ;  but  I  think  common  report 
must  be  in  error.  St.  Paul  gives  patience,  forbear 
ance,  long-suffering,  meekness,  brotherly  kindness, 
and  charity,  as  some  of  the  Christian  graces.  I  do 
not  see  them  in  this  man.  Therefore,  common 
report  must  be  in  error." 

"  I  have  paid  him  a  good  many  hundreds  of  dol 
lars,  since  I  opened  my  shop  here,"  said  the  me 
chanic,  with  the  manner  of  one  who  felt  hurt.  "  If 
I  am  a  poor,  hard-working  man,  I  try  to  be  honest. 
Sometimes  I  get  a  little  behind  hand,  as  I  am  now, 
because  people  I  work  for  don't  pay  up  as  they 
should.  It  happened  twice  before  when  I  wasn't 
just  square  with  Mr.  Gray,  and  he  pressed  down 
very  hard  upon  me,  and  talked  just  as  you  heard 
him  to-day.  He  got  his  money,  every  dollar  of  it ; 


(56  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

and  he  will  get  Iris  money  now.  I  did  think,  know 
ing  that  he  had  joined  the  church  and  made  a 
profession  of  religion,  that  he  would  bear  -  a  little 
patiently  with  me,  this  time.  That,  as  he  had  ob 
tained  forgiveness,  as  alleged,  of  his  sins  towards 
heaven,  he  would  be  merciful  to  his  fellow-man. 
Ah,  well!  These  things  make  us  very  sceptical 
about  the  honesty  of  men  who  call  themselves  reli 
gious.  My  experience  with  "  professors,"  has  not 
been  very  encouraging.  As  a  general  thing,  I  find 
them  quite  as  greedy  of  gain  as  other  men.  "We 
outside  people  of  the  world  get  to  be  very  sharp- 
sighted.  When  a  man  sets  himself  up  to  be  of  bet 
ter  quality  than  we,  and  calls  himself  by  a  name 
significative  of  heavenly  virtue,  we  judge  him 
naturally,  by  his  own  standard,  and  watch  him 
very  closely.  If  he  remain  as  hard,  as  selfish,  as 
exacting,  and  as  eager  after  money  as  before,  we 
do  not  put  much  faith  in  his  profession,  and  are 
very  apt  to  class  him  with  hypocrites.  His  pray 
ing,  and  fine  talk  about  faith,  and  heavenly  love, 
and  being  washed  from  all  sin,  excite  in  us  con 
tempt  rather  than  respect.  We  ask  for  good  works, 
and  are  never  satisfied  with  anything  else.  By 
their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them." 


is  HE  A  cmrrsTiAN?  67 

On  the  next  Sunday  I  saw  Mr.  Gray  in  church. 
My  eyes  were  on  him  when  he  entered.  I  noticed 
that  all  the  lines  of  his  face  were  drawn  down,  and 
that  the  whole  aspect  and  bearing  of  the  man  were 
solemn  and  devotional.  lie  moved  to  his  place 
writh  a  slow  step,  his  eyes  cast  to  the  floor.  On 
taking  his  seat,  he  leaned  his  head  on  the  pew  in 
front  of  him,  and  continued  for  nearly  a  minute  in 
prayer.  During  the  services  I  heard  his  voice  in 
the  singing;  and  through  the  sermon,  he  main 
tained  the  most  fixed  attention.  It  was  communion 
Sabbath  ;  and  he  remained,  after  the  congregation 
was  dismissed,  to  join  in  the  holiest  act  of  worship. 

"Can  this  man  be  indeed  self-deceived?"  I 
asked  myself,  as  I  walked  homeward.  "  Can  ho 
really  believe  that  heaven  is  to  be  gained  by  pious 
acts  alone.  That  every  Sabbath  evening  he  can 
pitch  his  tent  a  day's  march  nearer  heaven,  though 
all  the  week  he  have  failed  in  the  commonest 
offices  of  neighborly  love  2" 

It  so  happened,  that  I  had  many  opportunities 
for  observing  Mr.  Gray,  who,  after  joining  the 
church,  became  an  active  worker  in  some  of  the 
public  and  prominent  charities  of  the  day.  He 
contributed  liberally  in  many  cases,  and  gave  a 


68  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

good  deal  of  time  to  the  prosecution  of  benevolent 
enterprises,  in  which  men  of  some  position  were 
concerned.  But,  when  I  saw  him  dispute  with  a 
poor  gardener  who  had  laid  sods  in  his  yard,  about 
fifty  cents  ;  take  sixpence  off  of  a  weary  strawberry 
woman ;  or  chaffer  with  his  bootblack  over  an  ex 
tra  shilling,  I  could  not  think  that  it  was  genuine 
love  for  his  fellow  men  that  prompted  his  ostenta 
tious  charities. 

In  no  instance  did  I  find  any  better  estimation  of 
him  in  business  circles;  for  his  religion  did  not 
chasten  the  ardor  of  his  selfish  love  of  advantage  in 
trade  ;  nor  make  him  more  generous,  nor  more  in 
clined  to  help  or  befriend  the  weak  and  the  needy. 
Twice  I  saw  his  action  in  the  case  of  unhappy 
debtors,  who  had  not  been  successful  in  business. 
In  each  case,  his  claim  was  among  the  smallest ; 
but  he  said  more  unkind  things,  and  was  the  hard 
est  to  satisfy,  of  any  man  among  the  creditors.  He 
assumed  dishonest  intention  at  the  outset,  and 
made  that  a  plea  for  the  most  rigid  exactions; 
covering  his  own  hard  selfishness  with  offensive 
cant  about  mercantile  honor,  Christian  integrity, 
and  a  religious  observance  of  business  contracts. 
He  was  the  only  man  among  all  the  creditors,  who 


IS    HE   A   CHRISTIAN  ?  69 

made  his  church-membership  a  prominent  thing — 
few  of  them  were  even  church-goers — and  the  only 
man  who  did  not  readily  make  concessions  to  the 
poor,  down-trodden  debtors. 

"  Is  he  a  Christian  ?"  I  asked,  as  I  walked  home 
in  some  depression  of  spirits,  from  the  last  of  these 
meetings.  And  I  could  but  answer  IsTo — for,  to  be 
a  Christian  is  to  be  Christ-like. 

"  As  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye 
even  so  to  them."  This  is  the  divine  standard.  "Ye 
must  be  born  again,"  leaves  to  us  no  latitude  of  in 
terpretation.  There  must  be  a  death  of  the  old, 
natural,  selfish  loves,  and  a  new  birth  of  spiritual 
affections.  As  a  man  feels,  so  will  he  act.  If  the 
affections  that  rule  in  his  heart  be  divine  affections, 
he  will  be  a  lover  of  others,  and  a  seeker  of  their 
good.  He  will  not  be  a  hard,  harsh,  exacting  man 
in  natural  things,  but  kind,  forbearing,  thoughtful 
of  others,  and  yielding.  In  all  his  dealings  with 
men,  his  actions  will  be  governed  by  the  heavenly 
laws  of  justice  and  judgment.  He  will  regard  the 
good  of  his  neighbor  equally  with  his  own.  It  is 
in  the  world  where  Christian  graces  reveal  them 
selves,  if  they  exist  at  all.  Religion  is  not  a  mere 
Sunday  affair,  but  the  regulator  of  a  man's  conduct 


70  8TEP8   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

among  his  fellow-men.  Unless  it  does  this,  it  is  a 
false  religion,  and  he  who  depends  upon  it  for  the 
enjoyment  of  heavenly  felicities  in  the  next  life, 
will  find  himself  in  miserable  error.  Heaven  can 
not  be  earned  by  mere  acts  of  piety,  for  heaven  is 
the  complement  of  all  divine  affections  in  the  hu 
man  soul ;  and  a  man  must  come  into  these — must 
be  born  into  them — while  on  earth,  or  he  can  never 
find  an  eternal  home  among  the  angels  of  God. 
Heaven  is  not  gained  by  doing,  but  by  living. 


OF   SUCH  IS   THE   KINGDOM   OF    HEAVEN. 


VI. 

OF  SUCH  IS  THE  KINGDOM  OF  HEAVEN. 

"  HE  is  a  very  sick  child,"  said  the  doctor,  in 
answer  to  the  mother's  eager  inquiries. 

"  Do  you  think  him  in  danger  ?"  The  mother's 
face  grew  white,  and  her  lips  quivered. 

The  doctor,  instead  of  replying  to  this  question, 
gave  some  minute  directions  about  the  administra 
tion  of  certain  medicines,  and  then  turned  from  the 
luxurious  bed  upon  which  the  child  lay. 

"  How  soon  will  you  come  again  ?"  The  mother, 
in  her  anxiety,  caught  hold  of  the  doctor's  arm, 
and  held  him  fast. 

"  In  the  course  of  three  or  four  hours.  By  that 
time  the  action  of  the  medicine  will  be  fully  appa 
rent.  Give  it  punctually,  and  according  to*  direc 
tions." 

"  Can't  you  remain  ?"  urged  the  distressed 
mother,  whose  fears  the  doctor's  unsatisfactory 


72  STEPS   TOWAKDS   HEAVEN. 

manner  had  aroused  to  the  highest  degree.  "  Oh, 
stay  with  him!  There  may  be  changes  in  an 
hour  that  your  eyes  should  see.  His  life  is  in  your 
hands,  doctor ;  his  precious  life  !  Do  not  leave 
us!" 

"  Not  in  my  hands,  but  in  the  hands  of  Him 
who  holds  the  issues  of  life,"  replied  the  doctor. 
"  "We  are  but  the  instruments  of  healing." 

"  A  little  longer,  doctor !  stay  a  little  longer !" 
urged  the  mother,  scarcely  rising  a  single  degree 
in  her  perceptions  above  that  first  blind  confi 
dence  in  the  physician's  skill.  But  the  doctor 
said : — 

"That  is  impossible.  Duty  calls  me  to  other 
bedsides.  There  is,  but  a  short  distance  from  here, 
a  poor  woman's  only  child  as  sick  as  yours,  and  as 
imperatively  requiring  my  utmost  skill.  I  must 
see  it  with  as  little  delay  as  possible." 

A  poor  woman's  child!  The  mother  turned 
half  offended  from  the  physician,  and  as  he  with 
drew,  sat  down  on  the  bed  on  which  her  sick  boy 
lay,  and  taking  one  of  his  hot  hands  covered  it 
with  tears  and  kisses. 

A  poor  woman's  child !  A  washerwoman's,  per 
haps ;  or  the  common,  coarse  offspring  of  a  mere 


OF   SUCH   IS   THE   KINGDOM   OF   HEAVEN.  73 

sempstress ;  or  of  a  German  or  Irish  woman,  living 
in  a  garret,  amid  dirt  and  disorder !  And,  for  one 
such,  her  physician  could  leave  the  pure,  sweet 
infant  that  lay  suffering  before  her,  of  more  value 
in  her  eyes  than  a  thousand  poor  women's  child 
ren. 

"  I  couldn't  have  believed  it  of  him  1"  sobbed 
the  mother,  in  her  selfishness  and  fear. 

From  the  merchant's  luxurious  palace,  into 
which  disease  had  stolen  on  invisible  wings,  and 
stricken  down  the  hope  and  pride  of  the  house,  the 
physician  passed,  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  entered 
one  of  the  meanest-looking  houses  in  the  neigh 
borhood.  The  rich  mother  had  not  been  far  wrong 
in  her  conjecture.  This  visit  was  to  a  washerwo 
man's  child.  Up  two  naked,  sand-covered  pairs  of 
stairs  the  doctor  went,  and  pausing  at  a  door  in 
the  third  story,  rapped  lightly,  and  then,  without 
waiting  for  the  door  to  be  opened,  lifted  the  latch, 
and  went  in. 

"  Oh,  doctor !  I'm  so  glad  you  have  come !"  A 
pale,  anxious-looking  woman,  with  soiled  and 
rumpled  garments,  and  uncombed  hair,  sat  hold 
ing  a  child  in  her  arms.  All  of  the  preceding 
night,  she  had  held  him  upon  her  lap,  for  he  was 
4 


74:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

too  ill  to  sleep,  and  cried  whenever  she  laid  him 
upon  the  bed. 

i  How  is  he  this  morning  ?"  inquired  the  doctor, 
as  he  sat  down  by  the  poor  woman,  and  looked 
closely  at  the  sick  babe. 

"  Not  any  better.  He's  had  a  very  bad  night." 
The  doctor  felt  his  pulse,  examined  his  skin, 
noted  the  character  of  his  respiration,  and  asked  of 
the  mother  various  questions  relating  to  symptoms 
— all  with  a  carefulness  and  interest  as  marked  as 
he  had  shown  at  the  visit  just  paid  to  the  child  of 
wealth  and  luxury.  And  quite  as  eagerly  did  this 
poor  mother  watch  his  countenance,  and  hang  upon 
his  few,  unsatisfactory  words,  as  did  the  mother 
from  whom  he  had  parted  a  little  while  before. 
To  her  heart,  her  babe  was  equally  precious.  Born 
though  it  was  in  poverty,  and  nurtured  in  toil,  its 
presence  was  Eke  sunlight  in  her  humble  dwelling, 
and  its  cooing  voice  the  music  that  cheered  her 
labor,  and  made  her  half  forget  the  sadness  of  her 
recent  widowhood. 

"  Do  you  think  he  will  die,  doctor !" 
"While  there  is  life  there  is  hope,"   said  the 
doctor,   evading,   with   this  old  phrase,  a  direct 
answer. 


OF   SUCH   IS   THE   KINGDOM   OF   HEAVEN.  75 

"  He  is  very  sick  ?"  The  tearful  mother  still 
urged  for  some  expression  of  opinion. 

"  He  is  a  sick  child.  But,  we  will  try  the  virtue 
of  medicine,  and  trust  in  the  Great  Physician." 

% 

"Won't  you  come  again  to-day?"  A  harder 
heart  than  the  doctor's  could  not  have  resisted  that 
pleading  look  and  tone. 

"Yes;  I  will  be  round  again  in  a  few  hours. 
In  the  meantime,  give  this  medicine  according  to 
direction." 

Three  hours  later,  the  doctor  entered  the  palace- 
home  of  the  rich  mother.  There  was  a  troubled 
look  on  the  face  of  the  servant  who  admitted  him ; 
but  he  asked  no  questions.  At  the  door  of  the 
sick  chamber  he  paused  a  few  moments,  and 
listened ;  all  within  was  still  as  death.  Then  he 
entered,  but  so  softly,  that  none  seemed  to  be 
aware  of  his  presence.  Around  the  bed  on  which 
the  child  lay  stood  a  group  of  four  or  five  persons, 
among  them  a  clergyman,  who  had  been  sent  for  in 
haste,  to  comfort  with  words  of  heavenly  import 
the  heart  of  the  mother,  about  to  suffer  its  greatest 
earthly  sorrow. 

On  the  babe's  ashen  face  the  death-seal  was  so 
clearly  impressed,  that  no  eyes  could  be  mistaken 


76  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAT  EN. 

*n  the  sign.  Hope  was  extinguished  even  in  the 
mother's  heart. 

How  still  it  was  in  that  luxurious  chamber! 
Respiration  was  half  suspended.  In  the  presence 
of  the  dying  babe,  all  felt  a  pervading  conscious 
ness  of  a  divine  presence.  It  seemed  as  if  angels 
were  about  the  child,  waiting  to  bear  upwards  its 
pure  spirit,  just  struggling  to  free  itself  from  mortal 
investure.  All  but  the  mother  stood  up  reverently, 
yet  bending  with  earnest  looks  towards  the  beau 
tiful  babe — beautiful  still,  even  though  blighted 
with  sickness, — but  she  sat  cowering  down  at  the 
bedside,  her  arm  crushing  the  pillow  on  which  the 
child  lay,  and  her  white  face  so  full  of  anguish, 
that  all  eyes  that  looked  upon  it  grew  wet  with 
tears. 

Silently  the  doctor  glided  in,  and  made  one  of 
the  waiting  group.  The  babe's  sight  was  veiled — 
the  snowy  lids  having  closed  over  the  blue  orbs 
that  danced  in  light  and  beauty  a  few  days  before. 
The  mouth,  which  pain  had  disfigured,  was  grad 
ually  recovering  its  sweet  expression;  and  even 
while  the  change  was  passing,  the  image  of  a  smile 
left  thereon  its  soft  imprint. 

So  gradual  was  the  transition — so  merciful  was 


OF   SUCH    IS   THE    KINGDOM   OF   HEAVEN.  77 

the  angel  of  death  in  his  work  of  separating  from 
mortal  bonds  the  immortal  spirit — that  none  who 
gazed  on  the  infant  knew  the  precise  moment 
when  the  heart  ceased  to  beat,  and  the  lungs  to 
respire. 

First  to  move,  in  that  statue-like  group,  was  the 
clergyman.  He  was  standing  close  beside  the 
mother,  whose  blinding  tears  hid  from  her  the  true 
aspect  of  her  babe's  face.  Bending  towards  her, 
he  said,  in  a  voice  low,  penetrating,  and  full  of 
spiritual  comfort, 

"  For  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven !" 

His  words  broke  the  spell.  A  wild  cry  from  the 
mother's  lips  rent  the  air,  and  quivering  sobs  filled 
the  apartment. 

Ended,  here,  was  the  physician's  work,  and  so 
going  noiselessly  out,  he  departed,  leaving  the 
mourners  in  their  sorrow,  and  with  their  dead. 
His  duties  were  to  the  living. 

His  next  visit  was  to  the  washerwoman's  child. 
As  he  opened  the  door  of  the  humble  room  he  had 
left  a  few  hours  before,  he  saw  the  poor  mother 
sitting,  as  he  had  last  seen  her,  holding  in  her  arms 
her  sick  babe.  It  needed  no  second  glance  to  tell 
him  that  here,  too,  the  physician's  work  was  done. 


78  STEPS  TOWAEDS  HEAVEN. 

There  was  no  hope  in  the  mother's  tearless  face ; 
and  no  hope  on  the  death-like  countenance  of  the 
little  sufferer. 

Thus  alone  sat  the  mother  with  her  dying  babe 
on  her  lap.  There  were  no  friends  to  condole,  no 
minister  of  religion  to  comfort.  And  yet,  in  the 
heart  of  the  rich  mother,  whose  child  had  just  taken 
its  everlasting  departure,  no  purer  love  found  abi 
ding  place;  and  no  sadder  grief  came  with  its 
almost  hopeless  desolation  of  spirit,  as  the  babe's 
eyes  closed,  and  the  lips,  whose  smile  of  beauty 
made  the  heart's  daily  sunshine,  grew  rigid  in 
death. 

"It  is  too  late,  doctor!"  she  said,  looking  up 
with  a  stony  aspect,  and  speaking  in  a  voice  so 
calm  and  cold,  that  it  almost  chilled  the  physician's 
heart.  "  He  is  dying." 

The  doctor's  work  was  not  all  done  here.  As  a 
physician,  his  skill  was  of  no  further  avail ;  but 
humanity  had  claims  upon  him.  So  he  waited  the 
issue  of  the  struggle  between  life  and  death.  It 
was  brief,  but  not  violent.  The  ministration  was 
quite  as  merciful  as  in  the  former  case.  Yery 
gently  the  spirit  passed.  There  were  no  convul 
sions  ;  no  struggles ;  no  evidences  of  pain ;  and  the 


OF   SUCH   IS   THE   KINGDOM   OF   HEAVEN.  79 

room  seemed  equally  pervaded  by  angelic  pres 
ence. 

At  last  it  was  over,  and  the  mother's  face  now 
covered  with  the  first  outflowing  tears  that  had 
found  vent  for  hours,  was  laid,  in  sorrow  that  no 
words  could  express,  down  against  the  cold  face  of 
her  child. 

"  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven !" 

Not  formally,  nor  of  previous  thought,  were  the 
words  said.  They  fell  from  the  doctor's  lips  almost 
spontaneously,  and  in  tones  as  reverent  and  full  of 
meaning  as  those  in  which  he  had  heard  the  same 
words  spoken  a  little  while  before.  And  they  were 
just  as  true,  in  every  shade  of  meaning  in  this 
case  as  in  the  other.  Just  as  precious  was  this 
babe  in  the  sight  of  heaven ;  just  as  lovingly  was  it 
received  by  angels;  just  as  beautiful  now  is  its 
celestial  home ;  just  as  happy  is  it  on  the  flowery 
slopes,  and  amid  the  green,  sweet  places  of  the  gar 
den  of  God. 

"  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven  !"  Yes,  of 
such.  Of  the  pure  and  the  innocent.  Of  the  child 
like  in  spirit.  Of  those  who  pass  upwards  in  the 
innocence  of  ignorance,  as  little  children;  or,  in 
the  innocence  of  wisdom,  as  right-living  men 


80  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

and  wjmen.  It  matters  not  for  the  external  con 
dition  in  either  case.  Only  of  such — the  innocent 
and  pure  in  spirit — is  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and 
they  are  to  be  found  alike  in  the  palace  and  in  the 
cottage — among  the  rich  and  among  the  poor ;  for 
man  is  not  regarded  in  heaven  as  to  his  externals, 
but  as  to  his  internals. 


THE   HAPPY    NEW    YEAR.  81 


VII. 
THE  HAPPY  NEW  YEAE. 

"  HAPPY  New  Year,  papa  !"  The  sitting-room 
doors  were  thrown  open,  and  a  sweet  little  girl 
came  bounding  in.  Her  cheeks  were  all  a-glow — 
smiles  played  around  her  cherry  lips — her  eyes 
were  dancing  with  sunny  light. 

"  Happy  New  Year,  dear  Papa  !"  And  the  next 
moment  she  was  in  her  father's  lap — her  small 
arms  clinging  around  his  neck,  and  her  rosy  mouth 
pressed  to  his. 

"  Happy  New  Year,  my  sweet  one  !"  responded 
Mr.  Edgar,  as  he  clasped  the  child  fondly  to  his 
heart.  "  May  all  your  New  Years  be  happy,"  he 
added,  in  a  low  voice,  and  with  a  prayer  in  his 
heart. 

Little  Ellen  laid  her  head  in  confiding  love, 
against  her  father's  breast,  and  he  bent  down  his 
manly  cheek  until  it  rested  on  the  soft  masses  01 
her  golden  hair. 

4* 


82  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

To  her  it  was  a  happy  New  Year's  morning,  and 
the  words  that  fell  from  her  lips  were  heart  echoes. 
But  it  was  not  so  to  Mr.  Edgar.  The  cares  of  this 
world,  and  the  deceitfulness  of  riches,  had,  like  evil 
weeds,  found  a  rank  growth  in  his  spirit ;  while 
good  seeds  of  truth,  which,  in  earlier  life,  had  sent 
forth  their  fresh  green  blades  that  lifted  themselves 
in  the  bright,  invigorating  sunshine,  gave  now  but 
feeble  promise  for  the  harvest  time. 

No,  Mr.  Edgar  was  not  happy.  There  was  a 
pressure  on  his  feelings ;  an  unsatisfied  reaching 
out  into  the  future ;  a  vague  consciousness  of  ap 
proaching  evil.  Yery  tenderly  he  loved  his  little 
one ;  and  as  she  lay  nestling  against  him,  he  could 
not  help  thinking  of  the  time  when  he  was  a  child, 
and  when  the  New  Years  were  happy  ones.  Ellen 
loved  no  place  so  well  as  her  father's  arms.  When 
they  were  folded  tightly  around  her,  she  had  no 
thing  more  to  desire;  so  she  lay  very  still  and 
silent,  while  the  thoughts  of  her  father  wandered 
away  from  the  loving  child  on  his  bosom  to  his 
own  unsatisfied  state  of  mind. 

"  For  years,"  he  said  within  himself,  "  I  have 
been  in  earnest  pursuit  of  the  means  of  happiness, 
yet  happiness  itself  seems  every  year  to  be  still  far- 


THE   HAPPY   NEW   TEAR.  83 

to*  ^r  in  the  distance.  There  is  something  wrong. 
I  cannot  be  in  the  true  path.  My  days  are  busy 
and  restless,  my  nights  burdened  with  schemes  that 
rarely  do  more  than  cheat  my  glowing  fancy. 
"Wliat  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?" 

And  Mr.  Edgar  fell  into  a  deep  revery,  from 
which  he  was  aroused  by  the  voice  of  his  wife,  as 
she  laid  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  A  happy  New  Year,  and  many  joyful  returns !" 
she  said  in  loving  tones,  as  she  pressed  her  lips  to 
his  forehead. 

He  did  not  answer.  The  tenderly  spoken  good 
wishes  of  his  wife  fell  very  gratefully,  like  refresh 
ing  dew  upon  his  heart ;  but  he  was  distinctly 
conscious  of  not  being  happy. 

So  far  as  worldly  condition  was  concerned,  Mr 
Edgar  had  no  cause  of  mental  depression.  His 
business  was  prosperous  under  a  careful  manage 
ment,  and  every  year  he  saw  himself  better  off  by 
a  few  thousands  of  dollars.  Always,  however,  it 
must  be  told,  the  number  fell  short  of  his  expecta 
tions. 

"  There  is  something  wrong."  Mr.  Edgar's 
thoughts  were  all  running  in  one  direction.  A 
startling  truth  seemed  suddenly  to  have  been  re- 


84  STEPS   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 

vealed  to  him,  and  he  felt  inclined  to  look  at  it  in 
all  possible  aspects.  "Why  am  I  not  happy?" 
That  was  urging  the  question  home.  But  the  an 
swer  was  not  given. 

After  breakfast,  Mr.  Edgar  left  home  and  went 
to  his  store.  As  he  passed  along  the  street,  he 
saw  at  a  window  the  face  of  a  most  lovely  child. 
Her  beauty,  that  had  in  it  something  of  heavenly 
innocence,  impressed  him  so  deeply,  that  he  turned 
to  gain  a  second  look,  and  in  doing  so,  his  eyes 
saw  on  the  door  of  the  dwelling  the  name  of 
Abraham  James.  There  was  an  instant  revulsion  of 
feeling;  and  for  the  first  time  that  morning,  Mr. 
Edgar  remembered  one  of  the  causes  of  his  uncom 
fortable  state  of  mind.  Abraham  James  was  an 
unfortunate  debtor  who  had  failed  to  meet  his 
obligations,  among  which  were  two  notes  of  five 
hundred  dollars  each,  given  to  Mr.  Edgar.  These 
had  been  placed  by  the  latter  in  the  hands  of  his 
lawyer,  with  directions  to  sue  them  out,  and 
obtain  the  most  that  could  be  realized.  Only  the 
day  before — the  last  day  of  the  year — he  had 
learned  that  there  were  two  judgments  that  would 
take  precedence  of  his,  and  sweep  off  a  share  of 
the  debtor's  property.  The  fact  had  chafed  him 


THE   HAITY   NEW   TEAK.  85 

considerably,  causing  him  to  indulge  in  harsh  lan 
guage  towards  his  debtor.  This  language  was  not 
just,  as  he  knew  in  his  heart.  But  the  loss  of  his 
money  fretted  him,  and  filled  him  with  unkind 
feelings  towards  the  individual  who  had  occasioned 
the  loss. 

No  wonder  that  Mr.  Edgar  was  unhappy.  As 
he  continued  on  his  way,  the  angry  impulse  that 
quickened  the  blood  in  his  veins,  subsided,  and 
through  the  mist  that  obscured  his  mental  vision, 
he  saw  the  bright  face  of  a  child,  the  child  of  his 
unfortunate  debtor.  His  own  precious  one  was  no 
lovelier — no  purer;  nor  had  her  lips  uttered  on 
that  morning  in  sweeter  tones,  the  words — "  A 
happy  New  Year,  papa  !" 

How  the  thought  thrilled  him ! 

With  his  face  bowed,  and  his  eyes  upon  the 
ground,  Mr.  Edgar  walked  on.  He  could  not 
sweep  aside  the  image  of  that  child  at  the  win 
dow  ;  nor  keep  back  his  thoughts  from  entering 
the  dwelling  where  her  presence  might  be  the 
only  sunbeam  that  gave  light  in  its  gloomy  cham 
bers. 

"A  happy  New  Year,  papa!"  Mr.  Edgar 
almost  started,  for  the  words  had  so  distinct  an 


86  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

utterance  to  his  inward  ear,  that  they  seemed  as 
if  spoken  in  the  ambient  air.  In  fancy,  he  had 
seen  the  troubled  debtor,  over  whom  hung  many 
suits,  his  own  among  the  rest,  leaving  the  chamber 
where  he  had  passed  an  almost  sleepless  night, 
and  coming  with  slow  steps  and  sad  face  to  the 
family  sitting-room.  There,  alone,  with  his  face 
bowed  upon  his  breast  in  gloomy  reverie,  Mr. 
Edgar  had  seen  him ;  and  while  his  heart  was 
enlarged  with  pity  and  sympathy,  the  door 
opened — light  footsteps  moved  across  the  room 
— a  child  sprang  into  his  arms,  and  a  glad  voice 
exclaimed — 

"  A  happy  New  Year,  papa  1" 

When  Mr.  Edgar  arrived  at  his  store,  his  feel 
ings  towards  Mr.  James  were  very  different  from 
what  they  were  on  the  day  previous.  All  anger — 
all  resentment — were  gone,  and  kindness  had 
taken  their  place.  What  if  Mr.  James  did  owe 
him  a  thousand  dollars  ?  What  if  he  should  lose 
the  whole  amount  of  this  indebtedness  ?  Was  the 
condition  of  the  former  so  much  better  than  his 
own,  that  he  would  care  to  change  places  with 
him?  The  veiy  idea  caused  a  shudder  to  run 
along  his  nerves. 


THE    HAPPY    NEW    YEAB.  87 

"Poor  man  !"  he  said  to  himself,  pityingly. 

"  What  a  terrible  thing  to  be  thus  involved  in 
debt — thus  crippled,  thus  driven  to  the  wall.  It 
would  kill  me !  Men  are  very  cruel  to  each  other, 
and  I  am  cruel  with  the  rest.  What  are  a  thou- 
send  dollars  to  me,  or  a  thousand  dollars  to  my 
well-to-do  neighbor,  compared  with  the  ruin  of  a 
helpless  fellow-man !  James  asked  time ;  in  two 
years  he  was  sure  he  could  recover  himself  and 
make  all  good.  But,  with  a  heartlessness  that 
causes  my  cheek  to  burn  as  I  think  of  it,  I 
answered  — '  The  first  loss  is  always  the  best  loss. 
I  will  get  what  I  can,  and  let  the  balance  go.'  The 
look  he  then  gave  me,  has  troubled  my  conscience 
ever  since.  No  wonder  it  is  not  a  happy  New 
Year." 

Scarcely  had  Mr.  Edgar  passed  the  dwelling  of 
his  unfortunate  creditor,  when  the  latter,  who  had 
been  walking  the  floor  of  his  parlor  in  a  troubled 
state  of  mind,  came  to  the  window  and  stood  by 
his  child,  who  was  dear  to  him  as  a  child  could  be 
to  the  heart  of  a  father. 

"  Happy  New  Year,  papa  I"  It  was  the  third 
time  since  morning  dawn  that  he  had  received  this 
greeting  from  the  same  sweet  lips — the  third  time 


88  STEPS  TOWAKDS   HEAVEN. 

that  her  kisses  were  given  with  the  heart- waiinth 
of  childhood's  unselfish  love. 

Mr.  James  tried  to  give  back  the  same  glad 
'greeting,  but  the  words  seemed  to  choke  him,  and 
failed  in  the  utterance.  As  the  two  stood  by  the 
window,  the  wife  and  mother  came  up,  and  lean 
ing  against  her  husband,  looked  forth  with  a  sad 
heart.  Oh  no !  it  was  not  a  happy  new  year's 
morning  to  them.  Long  before  the  dawn  of 
another  year,  they  must  go  forth  from  their  plea- 
Bant  home ;  and  both  their  hearts  shrunk  back  in 
fear  from  the  dark  beyond. 

"  Good  morning,  dear,"  said  Mr.  James,  soon 
afterwards,  as,  with  hat,  and  coat,  and  muffler  on, 
he  stood  ready  to  go  forth  to  meet  the  business 
trials  of  the  day.  His  voice  was  depressed,  and 
his  countenance  sad.  Mrs.  James  did  not  say 
"  Good  morning,"  in  turn.  But  her  husband  saw 
the  motion  of  her  lips  and  the  tears  in  her  eyes, 
and  he  knew  what  was  in  her  heart. 

The  business  assigned  to  that  day  was  a  painful 
one  for  Mr.  James.  The  only  creditor  who  had 
commenced  a  suit  was  Mr.  Edgar,  he  having  de 
clined  entering  into  any  arrangement  with  the 
other  creditors,  coldly  saying  that,  in  his  opinion, 


THE   HAPPY   NEW   TEAK.  89 

"  the  first  loss  was  always  the  best  loss,'  and  that 
extensions  were,  in  most  cases,  equivalent  to  the 
abandonment  of  a  claim.  He  was  willing  to  take 
"what  the  law  would  give  him.  Pursuant  to  this 
view,  a  suit  had  been  brought,  and  the  debtor,  to 
anticipate  the  result,  confessed  judgment  to  two 
of  his  largest  creditors,  who  honorably  bound 
themselves  to  see  that  a  pro  rata  division  was  made 
of  all  his  effects. 

The  business  of  this  New  Year's  Day,  was  to 
draw  up  as  complete  a  statement  as  possible  of  his 
affairs,  and  Mr.  James  went  about  the  work  with  a 
heavy  heart.  He  had  been  engaged  in  this  way 
for  over  an  hour,  when  one  of  his  clerks  came  to 
the  desk  where  he  was  writing,  and  handed  him  a 
letter  which  a  lad  had  just  brought  in.  He  broke 
the  seal  with  a  nervous  foreboding  of  trouble,  for, 
of  late,  these  letters  by  the  hands  of  the  private 
messengers,  had  been  frequent,  and  rarely  of  an 
agreeable  character.  From  the  envelope,  as  he 
commenced  withdrawing  the  letter,  there  dropped 
upon  the  desk  a  narrow  piece  of  paper,  folded 
like  a  bill.  He  took  it  up  with  almost  reluctant 
fingers,  and  slowly  pressed  back  the  ends  so  as 
to  read  its  face,  and  comprehend  its  import. 


90  STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN". 

Twice  his  eyes  went  over  the  brief  lines,  before 
he  was  clear  as  to  their  meaning.  They  were  as 
follows : 

"  Keceived,  January  1, 18 — ,  of  Abraham  James, 
One  Thousand  Dollars,  in  full  of  all  demands. 

"  HIRAM  EDGAR." 

Hurriedly,  now,  did  Mr.  James  unfold  the  letter 
that  accompanied  this  receipt.  Its  language  moved 
him  deeply : 

"  ABRAHAM  JAMES,  Esq., 

DEAR  SIR  :  I  was  not  in  a  right  state  of 
mind  when  I  gave  directions  to  have  a  suit 
brought  against  you.  I  have  seen  clearer  since, 
and  wish  to  act  from  a  better  principle.  My  own 
affairs  are  prosperous.  During  the  year  which  has 
just  closed,  my  profits  have  been  better  than 
in  any  year  since  I  started  business.  Your 
affairs,  on  the  contrary  are  unprosperous.  Heavy 
losses,  instead  of  fair  profits,  are  the  result  of  a 
year's  tireless  efforts,  and  you  find  yourself  near 
the  bottom  of  the  wheel,  while  I  am  sweeping  up 
wards.  As  I  think  of  this,  and  of  my  unfeeling 
conduct  towards  you  in  your  misfortunes,  I  am 


THE   HAPPY   NEW   TEAR.  91 

mortified  as  well  as  pained.  There  is  an  element 
in  my  character  which  ought  not  to  be  there.  I 
am  self-convicted  of  cruelty.  Accept,  my  dear 
sir,  in  the  enclosed  receipt,  the  best  reparation  in 
my  power  to  make.  In  giving  up  this  claim,  I  do 
not  abandon  an  item  that  goes  to  complete  the 
sum  of  my  happiness.  Not  a  single  comfort  will 
be  abridged.  It  will  not  shrink  the  dimensions  of 
my  house,  nor  withdraw  from  myself  or  family 
any  portion  of  food  or  raiment.  Accept,  then,  the 
New  Year's  gift  I  offer,  and  believe  that  I  have  a 
purer  delight  in  giving  than  you  in  receiving. 
My  best  wishes  are  with  you  for  the  future,  and  if, 
in  anything,  I  can  aid  you  in  your  arrangements 
with  creditors,  do  not  fail  to  command  my  ser 
vice. 

"  Most  truly  yours, 

EDGAK.' 


For  the  space  of  nearly  five  minutes,  Mr.  James 
sat  very  still,  the  letter  of  Mr.  Edgar  before  him, 
Then  he  folded  it  up,  with  the  receipt  inside,  and 
placed  it  m  his  pocket  ;  then  he  put  away  the  in 
ventories  he  had  been  examining,  and  tore  up  sev 
eral  pieces  of  paper,  on  which  were  sundry  calcu- 


92  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

lations  ;  and  then  he  put  on  his  warm  overcoat  and 
buttoned  it  to  the  chin. 

"  Edward,"  said  Mr.  James,  as  he  walked  down 
the  store,  "I  shall  not  return  this  afternoon.  It  is 
New  Year's  Day,  and  you  can  close  up  at  two 
o'clock." 

It  cost  Mr.  Edgar  a  struggle  to  write  the  receipt 
in  full.  A  thousand  dollars  was  a  large  sum  of 
money  to  give  away  by  a  single  stroke  of  the  pen. 
Love  of  gain  and  selfishness  pleaded  strongly  for 
the  last  farthing ;  but  the  better  reason  and  better 
feelings  of  the  man  prevailed,  and  the  good  deed 
was  done.  How  light  his  heart  felt — how  sud 
denly  the  clouds  were  lifted  from  his  sky,  and  the 
strange  pressure  from  his  feelings  !  It  was  to  him 
a  new  experience. 

On  the  evening  that  closed  the  day — the  first 
evening  of  the  New  Year — Mr.  Edgar  sat  with  his 
wife  and  children  in  his  elegant  home,  happier  by 
far  than  he  was  in  the  morning,  and  almost  won 
dering  at  the  change  in  his  state  of  mind.  Little 
Ellen  was  in  his  arms,  and  as  he  looked  upon  her 
cherub  face,  he  thought  of  a  face  as  beautiful,  seen 
by  him  in  the  morning,  at  the  window  of  his 
unfortunate  debtor.  Ihe  face  of  an  angel  it  had 


THE   HAIPT   NEW   TEAK.  93 

proved  to  him,  for  it  prompted  the  good  deed  from 
which  had  sprung  a  double  blessing.  While  he 
sat  thus,  he  heard  the  door  bell  ring.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  waiter  handed  in  a  letter.  He  broke 
the  seal  and  read : 

"Mr  DEAK  SIB: 

"This  morning  my  dear  little  Aggy,  the 
light  of  our  home,  greeted  me  with  a  joyous 
'  Happy  New  Tear.'  I  took  her  in  my  arms  and 
kissed  her,  keeping  my  face  close  to  hers,  that  she 
might  not  see  the  sadness  of  mine.  Ah,  sir !  The 
day  broke  in  gloom.  The  words  of  my  child  found 
no  echo  in  my  heart.  I  could  have  wept  over  her, 
if  the  strength  of  manhood  had  not  risen  above 
the  weakness  of  nature.  But  all  is  changed  now. 
A  few  minutes  ago  the  '  Happy  ISTew  Year '  was 
flowing  to  me  from  the  sweet  lips  of  my  child,  and 
the  words  went  thrilling  in  gladness  to  my  heart. 
May  the  day  close  as  happily  for  you  and  yours,  as 
it  is  closing  for  me  and  mine. 

"  God  bless  you ! 

"ABRAHAM  JAMES." 

Mr.   Edgar  read  this    letter    twice,   and  then 
handed  it,  without  a  word,  to  his  wife. 


94:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  I  do  not  under 
stand  it,  Hiram."  Mrs.  Edgar  looked  wonderingly 
into  her  husband's  face. 

The  story,  to  which  "she  listened  eagerly,  was 
briefly  told.  "When  Mr.  Edgar  had  finished,  his 
wife  arose,  and,  with  tears  of  love  and  sympathy 
in  her  eyes,  crossed  over  to  where  he  was  sitting, 
and  throwing  her  arms  around  his  neck,  said : 

"  My  good,  my  generous  husband  !  I  feel  very 
proud  of  you  this  night.  That  was  a  noble  deed ; 
and  I  thank  you  for  it  in  the  name  of  our  common 
humanity." 

Never  had  words  from  the  lips  of  his  wife 
sounded  so  pleasantly  in  the  ears  of  Mr.  Edgar. 
Never  had  he  known  so  happy  a  New  Year's  Day 
as  the  one  which  had  just  closed  ;  and,  though 
it  saw  him  poorer  than  he  believed  himself  in 
the  morning,  by  nearly  a  thousand  dollars,  he 
was  richer  in  feeling — richer  in  the  heart's  un- 
wasting  possessions — than  he  had  ever  been  in  his 
life. 


ENTERING   HEAVEN.  95 


Till. 

HEAVEN 


"THE  gates  of  heaven  have  swung  open,  and 
another  soul  has  entered  its  shining  courts,"  said 
the  preacher,  as  he  stood,  with  uncovered  head, 
by  the  coffin  of  one  whose  mortal  history  was 
closed. 

As  I  left  the  grave-yard,  an  old  man,  of  mild 
aspect,  walked  by  my  side. 

"  Did  you  know  Mr.  -  ?"  he  asked,  referring 
to  the  deceased. 

"As  a  neighbor,  but  not  intimately,"  was  my 
reply. 

"  I  knew  him  very  well,"  said  one  who  walked 
with  us. 

"  The  preacher  spoke  of  him  as  having  entered 
heaven,"  the  old  man  quietly  remarked. 

"  He  died  calmly  and  in  Christian  hope,  putting 
his  trust  in  his  Eedeemer,"  said  the  other  "1  was 


96  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

with  him  in  his  last  moments,  and  his  end  was 
peace.  If  he  has  not  gone  to  heaven,  there  are 
not  many  of  us  who  can  look  forward  with  con 
fidence." 

"  "We  must  enter  heaven  while  living  upon  the 
earth,"  said  the  old  man,  in  answer  to  this,  speak 
ing  gravely,  "or  the  doors  will  be  for  ever  shut 
against  us.  "We  must  be,  as  to  our  spirits,  in  the 
society  of  angels  here,  or  we  cannot  be  in  associa 
tion  with  them  hereafter." 

"  How  can  we  be  in  heaven  and  upon  earth  at 
the  same  time  ?"  queried  the  one  who  had  spoken 
of  my  neighbor's  peaceful  end ;  "  for  one  is  spiritual 
and  the  other  natural." 

"  To  be  spiritual-minded  is  to  be  in  heaven ; 
and  this  we  may  be,  while,  as  to  the  natural  body, 
we  are  still  upon  the  earth.  "Was  our  friend 
spiritual-minded  ?" 

The  old  man  turned  to  our  companion,  and 
awaited  his  answer. 

"  He  did  not  talk  much  of  religion,  as  a  general 
thing ;  but  he  was  a  regular  church-goer." 

"  That  signifies  little,"  was  replied. 

"  He  was  as  good  as  other  men ;  better  in  many 
things,  I  should  think — though  not  in  any  way  dis- 


ENTERING   HEAVEN.  97 

tinguished  for  piety.  He  was  not  one  of  your  talk 
ing  professors.  But  those  who  knew  him  best, 
valued  him  most.  His  peaceful  end  assures  me 
that  he  is  safe." 

"The  life,  not  the  death,  gives  genuine  assurance," 
said  the  old  man.  "  "With  rare  exceptions,  all  men 
die  peacefully — the  evil  and  the  good.  As  the 
time  of  departure  draws  near,  the  soul  sinks  into 
tranquil  states,  and  thoughts  of  life,  not  death,  hold 
it  away  from  depressing  influences.  There  is  a 
wise  as  well  as  a  merciful  providence  in  this.  But, 
you  say,  that  those  who  knew  him  best,  valued 
him  most." 

"Yes." 

"  Yalued  him  for  what?" 

"  For  his  kindness  of  heart,  his  benevolence,  his 
truth  and  honesty.  Why,  sir,  that  man  would 
have  suffered  his  right  arm  to  be  taken,  rather  than 
swerve  from  his  integrity." 

"Was  he  proud  of  his  honest  fame?  Did  he 
boast  of  it,  and  compare  himself  with  other 
men?" 

"  No,  sir.  He  was  not  one  who*  thought  much 
of  himself,  or  took  merit  for  a  good  deed.  I  think 
the  poor  will  miss  him,  and  weak  ones  sigh  for  the 
5* 


98  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

sustaining  hand  that  is  now  cold  in  death.  Ah, 
sir,  he  was  a  good  man.  But  I  don't  think  he 
could  be  called  spiritual-minded." 

"A  good  man,  and  a  true  man,  and  yet  not 
spiritual-minded!"  There  was  a  look  of  surprise 
in  the  old  man's  face.  "Are  not  goodness  and 
truth  spiritual  in  their  nature?  And  does  not 
their  reception  into  any  mind  determine  its 
quality?" 

"  You  may  be  right  in  your  conclusions,"  said 
the  other.  "  I  have  not  been  in  the  habit  of  view  • 
ing  things  just  in  your  way.  But  I  am  very  sure 
that  our  friend  has  gone  to  heaven." 

"  He  has  gone  among  those  who  are  like  him, 
and  with  whom  he  was  in  conjunction  as  to  his 
spirit,  while  he  yet  lived  in  the  world,"  the  old 
man  answered.  "He  could  not  live  in  eternal 
association  with  spirits  or  angels,  the  movement  of 
whose  lives  was  not  in  harmony  with  his  own.  If 
he  was  a  lover  of  truth ;  if  he  was  kind,  benevolent, 
thoughtful  of  others,  and  faithful  in  all  his  acts,  he 
has  passed  upwards  into  the  heavenly  companion 
ship  of  the  good ;  but  if  he  was  selfish,  cruel,  ex 
acting,  and  faithless  in  his  life,  no  tranquil  death- 
hour  has  made  him  a  fit  companion  for  angels,  and 


ENTERING   HEAVEN.  91' 

he  will  go  unto  his  own.  Revelation  affirms  this,  and 
reason  assents  to  no  other  conclusion.  It  is  a  doc 
trine  that  sweeps  away  fallacious  hopes,  and  leaves 
to  none  the  dangerous,  if  not  always  fatal,  experi 
ment  of  a  death-bed  repentance." 

"We  paused,  for  our  ways  diverged. 

"If  all  were  of  your  doctrine,"  said  I,  "men 
would  take  more  heed  to  their  ways.  There  are 
few  who  do  not  hope  to  reach  heaven  at  last. 
They  trust  to  some  good  deed  that  will  not  involve 
any  hard  denial  of  self,  or  to  some  cheap  act  of 
faith,  to  crowd  them  through  the  gate,  thinking 
that  if  they  once  get  in,  they  will  be  all  right  for 
eternity.  But  this  idea  of  a  heavenly  quality  being 
formed  in  the  soul  before  any  one  can  enter  heaven, 
is  rather  a  hard  saying  for  most  men.  It  is  an  ex 
tinguisher  of  hope  for  the  evil-minded." 

"  There  is  no  other  way,"  was  answered.  ""We 
must  enter  through  the  strait  gate  of  self-denial— 
and  it  will  be  found  very  strait  to  most  people.  If 
we  fail  to  do  this,  and  seek  to  climb  up  some  other 
way,  the  consequences  of  our  folly  will  be  with  us 
for  ever.  " 

And  as  the  old  man  said  this,  we  turned  from 
him,  pondering  his  words  in  our  hearts. 


100          STEP8  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 


IX. 

IT  IS  MOBNING  WITH  THE  CHILD. 

A  MOTHER  sat,  in  tears,  hy  the  bed-side  of  hei 
youngest-born,  and  best  beloved.  Six  days  had 
passed  since  the  hand  of  fever  was  laid  upon  him, 
and,  ever  since,  the  life-fountains  had  been  drying 
up  under  the  fervent  heat.  Many  times  daily  had 
she  entered  into  her  closet  and  bowed  herself  be 
fore  the  Father  of  Mercies,  praying  that  the 
Destroyer  might  pass  by  her  dwelling.  But  prayers 
and  tears  availed  not.  Steadily  the  disease  kept 
on  its  fatal  course,  and  now  scarcely  a  hope  re 
mained.  Friends  gathered  around,  offering  words 
of  consolation,  but  they  were  only  as  idle  murmurs 
in  her  ears. 

"  The  Lord  giveth  and  the  Lord  taketh  away — 
Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord,"  said  the  good 

,stor,  who,  only  a  year  before,  had  lifted   the 

eet  bov  in  his  arms,  and,  in  the  presence  of  an- 


IT  18   MOENING   WITH   THE   CHILD.  101 

gels,  touched  his  pure  forehead  with  the  waters  of 
baptism. 

But  the  mother  made  no  sign.  She  could  not 
accept  this  affliction  as  a  blessing — she  could  not 
offer  up  thanks.  Her  very  life  was  bound  up  in  the 
life  of  her  child,  and  the  thought  of  separation  was 
so  terrible  that  no  place  for  consolation  was  left  in 
her  grieving  spirit. 

"  It  is  appointed  unto  man  once  to  die,"  added 
the  minister,  still  seeking  to  penetrate  the  mother's 
heart,  and  pour  in  oil  and  wine ;  "  we  must  all  pass 
by  this  way — must  all  enter  this  valley — must  all 
go  down  into  the  dark  river.  How  much  better, 
then,  to  die  in  the  morning  of  life,  ere  fierce  sun 
beams  have  drank  the  fragrant  dews,  or  the  green, 
leaves  have  withered  on  the  sapless  branches." 

Still  the  mother  made  no  sign. 

"  You  will  have  a  treasure  in  heaven ;  and  where 
the  treasure  is,  there  will  the  heart  be  also." 

But  all  availed  not.    The  tears  fell  like  rain. 

Sadly,  at  length,  the  minister  turned  away,  and 
left  the  weeping  mother  with  her  friends  ;  for  her 
ears  were  closed  to  all  the  words  of  consolation  he 
could  offer. 

An  hour  later,  and  the  mother  still  bent  over  the 


102  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

frail  body  of  her  little  one.  There  was  no  hope  in 
her  heart,  for  she  saw  upon  his  wan  face  the  signet 
mark  of  the  death-angel.  One  friend  remained 
with  her ;  and,  until  now,  this  friend  had  offered 
no  words  of  comfort.  The  grieving  mother  was 
bending  over  the  pillow  upon  which  the  sick  child 
lay,  and  gazing  down  upon  the  countenance  she  was 
soon  to  see  no  more,  when  she  felt  a  hand  laid  gently 
upon  her  own,  and  with  a  touch  that  sent  a  new 
impulse  throbbing  through  the  heart. 

"It  is  very  dark  here,  sometimes,"  said  the 
friend,  very  softly,  very  tenderly,  and  with  a  mean 
ing  in  her  voice  beyond  that  contained  in  the  words 
she  had  uttered. 

The  mother  answered  only  by  a  returning  pres 
sure  of  the  hand. 

"  Even  the  light  of  this  world  is  darkness  when 
compared  with  the  light  of  heaven.  Here  the  best 
and  most  highly  favored  do  little  more  than  grope 
their  way.  There,  every  one  walks  in  noon-day 
clearness." 

She  had  gained  the  mother's  ear.  Her  words 
had  gone  inward  to  the  region  of  thought. 

"  I  have  passed  through  these  deep  waters,  my 
friend,"  she  continued,  "  and  have  heard  their  ter- 


IT  18   MORNING   WITH   THE   CHILD.  103 

rible  roaring.  I  have  held  a  dying  babe  in  my 
arms,  and  clung  to  it  with  an  agony  of  grief  that 
seemed  as  if  it  would  snap  my  very  heart-strings. 
But,  after  the  keenness  of  affliction  was  over,  I  had 
this  consolation,  and  it  has  remained  ever  since. 
"When  the  night  with  me  was  at  the  darkest,  it  was 
morning  with  my  child.  Yes,  it  was  then  that  the 
morning  broke  on  him  which  shall  never  go  down 
in  night.  Blessed  morning  of  celestial  glory  !  Oh, 
how  often  and  often  since,  when  I  have  walked  in 
darkness,  have  I  thanked  GOD,  with  a  true  heart, 
fervently,  that  it  was  morning  with  my  child  1" 

The  mother's  tears  ceased  to  fall,  and  she  turned 
her  wet  eyes  upon  her  friend,  and  looked  into  her 
face  earnestly. 

"  There  is  one  question,"  said  the  friend,  after  a 
pause,  "  that  every  mother  should  ask  herself.  It 
is  this — '  How  do  I  love  my  child — selfishly  or  un 
selfishly  ?'  If  unselfishly,  then,  whatever  is  best  for 
the  child,  will  give  to  her  heart  the  deepest  pleas 
ure.  I  had  a  dream  on  the  very  night  my  precious 
one  was  taken  away  from  me.  I  believe  that  it 
was  imaged  to  my  fancy  while  sleeping,  by  a  lov 
ing  angel  sent  to  comfort  me  in  my  great  affliction. 
There  had  always  been  something  very  fearful  to 


10i          STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

me  in  the  idea  of  dying  here,  and  awakening  to 
consciousness  in  a  new  and  strangely  different  ex 
istence  ;  and  the  thought  followed  my  child.  Tha 
iream  was  to  me  a  revelation,  and  as  such  I  ac 
cepted  it  thankfully.  I  saw,  in  my  sleep,  tw( 
scenes — the  one  contrasting  with  the  other,  as  we 
sometimes  see  them  in  pictures.  One  scene  repre 
sented  the  saddest  of  my  life-experiences.  I  saw 
myself  sitting  in  darkness  and  in  tears,  as  you  sit 
now,  my  friend  and  sister,  bending  over  my  precious 
babe,  clinging  to  it  as  the  miser  clings  to  his  gold — 
aye,  and  with  an  intenser  passion.  But  only  a  veil 
dropped  down  between  that  scene  and  another, 
which  quickly  enchained  my  vision,  and  caused  my 
heart,  heavy  with  grief,  to  throb  with  a  new-born 
pleasure.  An  angel,  in  form  like  a  chaste  young 
virgin,  was  clasping  to  her  bosom  a  babe,  in  all  the 
ecstasy  of  a  new-born  joy.  ISTo  mother,  when  she 
feels  upon  her  breast  the  first  pressure  of  her  first 
babe,  ever  felt  more  delight  than  I  saw  pictured  in 
the  face  of  the  angel  as  she  held  my  babe  to  her 
loving  heart.  Yes,  my  babe,  just  born  into  heaven, 
and  given  into  her  care  by  the  Divine  Father  of  us 
all. 

"  For  a  time  I  could  not  withdraw  my  eyes 


IT   IS   MOENING   WITH   THE   CHILD.  105 

from  the  face  of  the  angel.  Never  had  I  gazed 
upon  a  countenance  so  full  of  love ;  so  radiant 
with  celestial  beauty.  And  the  babe  nestled  on  her 
bosom  as  lovingly  as  it  had  ever  nestled  on  mine. 
From  this  scene,  after  gazing  upon  it  until  tears 
ran  down  my  cheeks — tears  of  gratitude  that  it 
was  so  well  with  my  babe — I  turned  to  look  at  the 
darker  one — at  the  sorrowing  earthly  mother  and 
the  suffering  child!  Poor  babe!  "Wasted  with 
sickness  and  writhing  with  mortal  pain.  How 
yearningly  and  pityingly  my  heart  went  towards 
it,  and  I  prayed  for  its  deliverance  !  Even  as  the 
words  went  up  from  my  heart,  the  darker  scene 
faded  until  it  became  no  longer  visible;  out 
the  brighter  one  remained.  "When  I  awoke,  and 
grief  for  my  great  loss  revived  in  my  heart,  I  re 
called  the  precious  dream,  and  took  comfort.  "What 
if  I  did  walk  in  darkness  ?  It  was  morning — eter 
nal  morning,  with  my  child !" 

As  the  mother  listened,  to  her  mind  was  also 
pictured  the  two  scenes.  Her  tears  had  ceased  to 
flow,  and  her  countenance  showed  a  visible  inter 
est.  A  little  while  she  sat  musing,  and  then,  as 
she  turned  her  eyes,  full  of  tenderness,  upon  her 
sick  boy,  said : 

5* 


106          STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

"  Oh,  it  is  hard,  very  hard,  to  give  him  up  !— 
How  can  I  do  it  ?  How  can  I  resign  him,  even  to 
the  care  of  an  angel  V 

The  friend  said  no  more.  Her  words  had  found 
a  way  into  the  heart  of  the  sorrowing  one,  and  she 
left  them  to  do  their  own  work. 

A  little  later,  and  the  hour  of  deepest  darkness 
came — the  hour  of  separation.  Over  the  mother's 
spirit  a  pall  of  blackest  gloom  was  spread.  The 
words  of  her  friend  had  faded  from  her  memory. 
She  saw  not  the  beautiful  beyond,  but  gazed  only 
upon  a  dark,  gloomy  abyss,  into  which  her  precious 
one  was  about  falling,  while  she  stood  helpless 
by.  Oh,  what  would  she  not  then  have  given  for 
light  upon  the  future! — for  an  unsealed  vision. 
Willingly  would  she  have  died,  that  she  might  go 
with  her  child  along  the  unknown  way,  and  shield 
him  from  its  terrors.  Over  him  she  bent,  seeing 
nothing,  hearing  nothing,  caring  for  nothing  but 
her  boy ;  while  darker  and  closer  the  shadows 
gathered  around  her.  It  was  night — dark,  cold, 
moonless  night,  with  the  grieving  mother. 

For  more  than  an  hour  the  child  had  lain  in  a 
deep  stupor,  but  it  was  evident  that  life  was 
ebbing  away,  and  that  the  last  agony  would  soon 


IT   18   MOENING   WITH   THE   CHILD.  107 

be  over.  For  herself,  the  mother  had  almost 
ceased  to  grieve  :  every  thought  and  every  feeling 
were  centered  in  her  child,  about  passing  alone 
through  the  gate  of  death — alone  to  meet  the  reali 
ties  of  the  unseen  world. 

Suddenly  a  light  fell  upon  the  wan,  suffering 
face — a  smile  played  around  the  white  lips — the 
eyes,  long  closed,  and  heavy  with  pain  and  fever, 
flew  open,  and,  glancing  upwards  with  a  glad  ex 
pression,  the  child  said, 

"  Good  morning,  mamma  !" 

"  Good  morning,  love !"  answered  the  startled 
mother,  scarcely  thinking  of  the  words  she  uttered. 

"  Good  morning !"  repeated  the  child,  still  gazing 
upwards,  with  a  new  and  heavenly  beauty  in  its 
countenance.  "  Oh,  it  is  morning  now !" 

Fixed  was  the  glad  look  for  several  moments ; 
then  the  fringing  lids  drooped  slowly,  until  they 
lay  softly  upon  the  pure  white  cheeks.  The  parted 
lips  closed;  but  the  smile  remained.  The  hands, 
lifted  for  a  moment  in  glad  surprise,  fell  over  the 
placid  breast,  and  all  was  still,  and  holy,  and 
beautiful. 

"  Yes,  it  is  morning  now,"  whispered  the  friend 
in  the  mother's  ear,  as  she  sat  like  one  entranced, 


108  STEPS   fOWABDS  HEAVEN. 

gazing  upon  the  pulseless  form  before  her,  which, 
as  if  touched  by  an  enchanter's  wand,  had  sud 
denly  changed  from  an  image  of  suffering  into 
one  of  tranquil  beauty. 

And  it  was  morning  with  the  child — a  heavenly 
morning — and  morning  also  with  the  mother ;  for 
a  new  light  had  dawned  upon  her,  and  a  new  faith 
in  the  hereafter.  The  dark  valley  was  suddenly 
bridged  with  light,  and  she  saw  her  precious  one 
by  angel  guides  led  safely  over. 

"  God  careth  for  these  jewels,"  said  the  friend,  a 
few  hours  afterwards.  "  They  are  precious  in  his 
sight :  not  one  of  them  is  lost.  His  love  is  ten 
derer  even  than  a  mother's  love.  We  may  trust 
them  in  his  hands  with  unfaltering  confidence. 
JSTes,  yes,  grieving  mother!  it  is  indeed  morning 
with  your  babe !" 


RICHER   OR  POORER.  109 


X. 

KICHEK,  OE  POOEEE? 

IT  was  the  last  day  and  last  evening  of  the  week 
and  of  the  year ;  and  Mr.  Stephens  sat  alone,  re 
viewing  the  incidents  of  his  life  during  the  twelve 
months  now  just  completed. 

"  I  think,"  he  said  within  himself,  "  that  I  have 
cause  of  self-congratulation.  Providence  has  spe 
cially  favored  me.  All  my  work  has  prospered." 

Yet,  even  while  he  thus  referred  to  a  providen 
tial  agency,  the  pride  of  human  prudence  was 
swelling  in  his  heart. 

"  How  many  a  goodly  vessel  has  been  shattered 
to  pieces  on  the  seething  breakers ;  yet  my  staunch 
ship  still  rides  the  waves  in  safety." 

Mr.  Stephens  arose  from  his  chair,  as  he  said 
this,  and  drawing  his  thumbs  into  the  arm  holes  of 
his  waistcoat,  threw  his  head  back  and  his  chest 
forward,  and  commenced  pacing  the  floor  of  his 


I 


110  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

elegant  parlor  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  felt  at 
peace  with  himself  and  all  the  world.  As  he 
walked,  he  said,  half-aloud — 

"Providence  has  smiled  on  me,  and  I  am  thank 
ful.  God  has  crowned  my  seasons  with  blessing. 
To-morrow,  on  the  first  Sabbath  of  the  new  year,  I 
will  give  him  thanks  in  the  congregation  of  his 
people ;  for  the  Lord  accepteth  a  thankful  heart. 
Many  a  man,"  he  continued,  "  has  lost  his  earthly 
good  things,  for  lack  of  a  thankful  heart.  Mine 
shall  abound  in  gratitude." 

And  then  Mr.  Stephens,  by  a  natural  progression 
of  thought,  began  making  a  hurried  estimate  of  his 
gains  for  the  year.  They  were  large.  As  he  re 
sumed  his  seat  in  the  great  cushioned  chair,  he 
said,  with  a  flutter  of  pleased  emotions — 

"  I  am  richer  to-day,  by  many  thousands,  than  I 
was  a  year  ago." 

"Richer — yes  richer" — he  murmured,  half  aloud, 
as  if  speaking  to  some  one.  Several  minutes  had 
passed,  and,  with  eyes  partly  closed,  he  was  sinking 
down  among  the  soft  cushions  of  his  chair.  From 
waking  consciousness  to  sleeping  vision  there  is, 
sometimes,  scarcely  a  moment's  interval,  It  was 
so  in  the  present  case. 


RICHER,    OR   POORER.  Ill 

"  Richer — richer,"  was  still  upon  the  merchant's 
lips,  when  the  rustle  of  garments  reached  his  ears, 
and  he  saw  by  his  side  a  form  of  angelic  beauty. 

"  And  yet,"  said  a  voice  that  went  thrilling  to 
the  very  centre  of  his  life,  "  you  have  lost  fear 
fully." 

"  Lost !  lost !  Oh,  no — I  have  lost  nothing,"  an 
swered  the  merchant,  quickly  recovering  himself. 
"  Every  venture  has  proved  successful." 

"  Let  us  see."  And  the  strange  visitor  sat  down 
just  in  front  of  Mr.  Stephens,  and  fixed  her  calm, 
searching  eyes  upon  his  face.  "  If  I  have  estimated 
correctly,  you  are  vastly  poorer  now,  than  you 
were  at  the  year's  beginning." 

"  A  low  shudder  of  fear  ran  along  the  merchant's 
nerves.  What  could  this  mean  ?  He  thought  of  his 
solid  real  estate,  his  well-secured  stocks,  his  bonds, 
his  ships,  and  his  merchandise. 

"  I  am  richer,  not  poorer,'"  he  answered  with  re 
gaining  confidence. 

"  You  have  lost  integrity,"  said  the  visitor,  "one 
of  the  priceless  jewels  of  a  man's  life." 

"  I  am  an  honest  man."  The  merchant  spoke 
with  a  flush  of  indignation  upon  his  face. 

"  Honest  before  men — not  before  God.     You 


112  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

have  forgotten  that  an  All-seeing  eye  was  upon 
you." 

"  "What  have  I  done  ?  Bring  my  deeds  to  the 
light.  I  have  wronged  no  man." 

The  merchant's  voice  was  confident. 

The  visitor  handed  him,  in  silence,  a  narrow 
piece  of  paper,  on  which  were  some  written  and 
printed  words. 

"What  is  this?"  he  read,  and  answered  his  own 
question — "  Oh,  a  tax  bill."  His  tone  was  indif 
ferent. 

"Is  it  paid?" 

"  Paid !     I  have  never  seen  it  before." 

"  You  believed  yourself  forgotten,  in  this  par 
ticular  instance,  by  assessor  and  collector,"  said  the 
visitor  severely,  "  and  counted  this  sum  as  so  much 
in  the  year's  gain.  You  knew  that  the  debt 
existed ;  that  you  owed  the  State  just  so  much  for 
the  protection  it  gave  to  your  life  and  property. 
That  so  much  was  due  as  an  item  in  your  contribu 
tion  in  support  of  order,  education,  and  the  helpless 
poor.  But  this  high  obligation  you  have  willfully 
set  aside,  and  indulged  a  feeling  of  selfish  pleasure 
at  the  trifling  gain  it  left  in  your  hands — gain  of 
less  than  a  hundred  perishable  dollars !" 


RICHER,    OR   POORER.  113 

A  cold  chill  of  conviction  struck  to  the  heart  of 
Mr.  Stephens. 

"  But  the  loss  is  fearful  to  think  of,"  was  con 
tinued.  "  Loss  of  manly  integrity  and  heavenly 
virtue.  No  one  could  know  of  this,  you  said  within 
your  heart.  Or,  if  it  were  discovered  that  an 
assessment  had  been  omitted,  or  a  bill  mislaid,  it 
would  only  be  regarded  as  an  error,  and  your 
prompt  settlement,  on  presentation,  would  put  you 
all  right  in  the  world's  regard.  Ah,  sir, — in  the 
trial  of  your  integrity,  honor  failed.  In  the  hour 
of  temptation,  you  fell.  Is  this  gain,  or  loss?  Are 
you  richer,  or  poorer,  by  the  act  ? 

The  merchant's  head  sank  low  upon  his  breast  in 
shame  and  self-condemnation.  It  was  all  too  true. 
He  had,  knowingly,  omitted  to  pay  a  tax  bill  that 
was  justly  due.  Had  failed  that  much  in  one  of 
his  higher  obligations  to  society,  and  for  the  paltry 
gain  of  a  few  dollars.  In  all  his  public  walk  be 
fore  men,  he  had  maintained  an  upright  stature ; 
but  stooped  to  a  petty  fraud  in  secret. 

"  A  fearful  loss,"  said  the  visitor,  "  for  it  is  a  loss 
of  just  so  much  of  the  property  that  goes  to  make 
up  a  man's  riches  in  heaven.  I  said  you  were 
poorer  now  than  at  this  time  last  year  ;  and  so  you 


STEPS   TOWAKDS    HEAVEN. 

are,  by  this  large  item.  And  you  have  lost,  be 
sides,  a  pearl  of  inestimable  value ;  one  that  you 
could  have  taken  with  you  as  a  rich  inheritance 
into  the  other  life.  God  gave  you  an  opportunity 
to  help  a  brother  in  need,  who  came  to  you  in  his 
sore  distress,  and  tried  to  awaken  your  sympathy. 
But  you  heard  him  only  in  part,  and  turned  him 
aside  with  cold  and  cutting  words.  It  was  not 
'enough  that  you  saw  the  struggles  of  manly  pride 
in  his  face,  and  the  pale  anguish  of  features ;  not 
enough  that  he  was  weak  and  in  sore  trouble — you 
must  add  rebuke  to  denial,  as  if  misfortune  were  a 
crime.  As  a  merchant,  you  had  prospered  in  every 
venture — you  were  at  ease,  and  in  comfort ;  and 
so  God  sent  to  you  this  man,  that  you  might  help 
him  in  his  need,  and  thus  add  to  your  heavenly 
riches.  But  love  of  self  triumphed  over  a  love  of 
the  neighbor.  You  preferred  gold  to  good. — The 
treasures  that  moth  and  rust  corrupt,  to  that 
which  is  enduring  as  eternity.  The  pure  pearl  of 
tender  compassion  was  offered  for  your  acceptance, 
but  your  eyes  were  too  dim  to  see  its  priceless 
value.  God  did  not  forget  his  needy  child.  The 
good  deed  you  failed  to  do,  another  performed,  and 
to  him  heaven  sent  the  blessing  that  might  have 

i 


BICKER,    OR   POORER.  115 

been  yours.    And  so  there  i&  more  lost  treasure  to 
be  taken  into  the  account." 

"  Spare  me !"  cried  the  merchant,  raising  his 
hands  with  a  deprecating  gesture.  "Oh,  spare 
me!" 

Not  yet,"  said  the  visitor.  "Money  gave  you 
power,  and  you  used  that  power  to  wrong  thou 
sands  of  your  weaker  fellow-men." 

"I  have  wronged  no  one,"  answered  the  mer 
chant  boldly.     "All  my  dealings  have  been  in. 
justice  between  man  and  man." 

"You  deceive  yourself,  returned  the  visitor 
"  Is  mere  speculation  honest  ?"  Is  it  just  to  monop 
olize  an  article  that  the  poorest  mechanic  and 
humblest  day-laborer  must  have,  and  so  enhance 
its  price  that  many  comforts  must  be  given  up  in 
order  to  procure  the  needed  supply?  You  have 
not  been  just  between  man  and  man,  for  you  have 
done  this,  and  done  it  at  the  peril  of  your  soul ;  for 
loss  of  neighborly  regard  and  honest  principle 
were  involved  in  the  act.  Gold  gained  by  fair 
trading  did  not  come  in  fast  enough  to  satisfy  your 
thirst  for  riches,  and  so  you  laid  plans,  that  were 
too  successftil,  for  defrauding  your  weaker  brethren. 
You  diminished  the  supply  of  bread  in  the  mouths 


116  STEPS  TOWAED8   HEAVEN. 

of  hungry  children,  and  made  the  poor  man's  bur 
dens  heavier,  that  you  might  add  to  the  wealth 
already  increased  beyond  your  power  to  enjoy." 

Again  the  head  of  Mr.  Stephens  sank  upon  his 
breast,  and  he  was  covered  with  shame  and  con 
fusion. 

"  Is  there  cause  for  self-congratulation  in  this  ? 
Are  you  really  a  richer  man  to-night  than  you 
were  at  the  year's  beginning  ?" 

"  Leave  me !"  said  the  merchant,  with  a  groan 
of  anguish. 

"Not  yet;  for  my  mission  is  incomplete,"  an 
swered  the  beautiful  monitor.  "  It  is  said  that 
Mr.  Stephens  is  a  high-minded,  honorable  mer 
chant.  Every  where,  in  business  circles,  men  bear 
this  testimony  in  his  favor." 

The  merchant  began  recovering  himself.  A  glow 
of  pride  warmed  his  heart. 

"  Men  can  can  say  nothing  less,"  he  made  an 
swer. 

"  Let  your  own  heart  judge.  What  better  are 
you  than  the  thief  who  appropriates  unlawfully 
the  goods  of  another  ?  Or  what  honor  is  there  in 
taking,  by  constraint,  a  dollar  from  the  earnings  of 
ten  thousand  different  men,  in  order  that  you  may 


RICHER,    OR   POORER.  i!7 

add  ten  thousand  dollars  to  your  heaped-up  store 
of  wealth  ?  This  you  have  done  in  a  single  act  of 
unrighteous  speculation.  What  would  you  think 
of  the  morality  of  a  newsboy  who  should,  by  some 
adroit  piece  of  petty  circumvention,  succeed  in  ex 
tracting  a  sixpence  from  the  pockets  of  each  of  a 
dozen  ragged  companions,  that  he  might  be  pos 
sessor  of  the  most  money,  or  secure  the  means  of 
enjoyment  which  poverty  denied  to  them  ?  Tou 
would  consider  him  a  sharper ;  perhaps,  call  him  a 
rogue.  Covetousness  was  the  spring  of  action  in 
your  case,  as  it  would  be  in  his;  and  a  selfish  dis 
regard  of  the  neighbor  led  on  to  the  consummation 
of  wrong. 

"  High-minded  and  honorable !"  There  was  an 
almost  withering  contempt  in  the  monitor's  voice. 
"  If  it  would  not  be  honorable  in  the  newsboy  to 
get,  without  any  return  of  benefits,  the  sixpences 
of  his  humble  companions,  it  cannot  be  honorable 
in  the  scheming  merchant  to  wrong  his  neighbors 
on  a  broader  scale.  Take  a  thousand  dollars  of 
your  money  and  place  it  here  on  this  table — the 
money  you  gained  in  that  nice  speculation  for 
which  so  many  shrewd,  unscrupulous  men  praised 
your  boldness  and  sagacity.  Count  it  over,  coin 


118  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

by  coin,  and  as  you  look  upon  each  one  succes 
sively,  say  thus  to  yourself:  'This  dollar  I  took 
from  a  poor  day-laborer.  He  had  saved  it,  penny 
by  penny ;  and  as  he  saved,  the  hope  of  getting 
something  ahead  cheered  him  in  his  ill-requited 
work.  But,  my  plans  were  too  well  laid ;  the  dol 
lar  passed  from  its  little  treasury,  and  now  is  mine. 
The  man  grew  discouraged  at  its  loss,  and  went 
back  to  his  dram-drinking.  He  lies  in  prison  now, 
and  his  children  'are  beggars  on  the  street.  That 
dollar  cost  something.  This  one  has  almost  as  sad 
a  story :  "A  toiling  mother,  with  three  helpless 
babes  to  support,  was  barely  able  to  procure  food 
and  raiment,  though  she  bent  to  her  weary  work 
long  after  midnight.  I  raised  the  price  of  bread, 
and  this  extra  dollar  she  had  to  earn  by  increasing 
toil.  And  so  count  on,  coin  after  coin,  until  you 
get  the  full  sum  of  human  suffering  your  base  spec 
ulation  in  food  has  cost.  Honorable !  high-minded  1 
No,  sir !  In  the  sight  of  Heaven  you  appear  mean, 
base,  selfish,  and  dishonorable." 

Again  the  merchant's  head  was  depressed,  and 
his  heart  sunk  like  lead  in  his  bosom.  His  own 
deformed  image  was  before  him,  and  he  shuddered 
at  the  monstrous  effigy. 


EICHEK,    OR   POORER. 

"1  do  not  think  yon  are  any  richer  for  that 
scheme  of  wrong  and  oppression,"  resumed  the 
visitor.  j 

"  If  your  soul  were  required  of  you  this  night, 
you  could  not  take  a  dollar  of  gain  with  you ;  but 
instead,  only  the  curse  of  an  evil  deed.  Shall  I  go 
on?" 

"  No  !  no !  in  Heaven's  name,  spare  me !"  cried 
the  merchant  aloud,  -starting  up  and  turning  to  fly 
from  his  rebuking  visitor.  But,  even  while  he 
spoke,  the  beautiful  being  faded  from  his  sight,  and 
he  found  himself  alone  in  his  parlor.  The  vision 
had  passed,  but  the  lesson  remained. 

The  next  day  was  the  first  Sabbath  of  the  new 
year.  Mr.  Stevens  went  to  church,  as  he  had  pur 
posed — not,  however,  to  give  thanks  for  a  prosper 
ous  year,  but  to  humble  himself;  to  ask  forgiveness 
of  sin,  and  to  pray  for  the  inspiration  of  a  better 
life.  The  minister  preached  from  these  searching 
words:  " For  what  shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  gain 
the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul ;  or  what 
shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul  ?"  And 
every  word  of  the  sermon  seemed  as  if  addressed 
to  the  conscience-stricken  merchant.  The  unpaid 
tax-bill;  the  unrighteous  speculation;  the  failure 


120  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

to  help  a  brother  in  need,  were  all  educed,  and 
marked  by  special  condemnation.  The  mirror  was 
a  second  time  held  up,  and  Mr.  Stevens  looked 
once  more,  in  shame,  upon  the  marred  image  of 
himself. 

"God  helping  me,"  he  said  devoutly,  as  he 
walked  homeward,  "  I  will  be  a  richer  man  on  the 
next  new-year's  day  than  I  am  on  this — richer  in 
heavenly  possessions,  the  best  of  all." 

And  it  was  so. 


EVERT   WRINKLE   A   LINE   OF  BEATTTT.  121 


XI. 
EVEKY  WEINKLE  A  LINE  OF  BEAUTY. 

"I  DON'T  like  old  people,"  said  a  thoughtless 
young  girl,  "  they  are  either  cross,  disagreeable,  or 


"  You  have  been  unfortunate  in  your  chances  of 
observation,"  replied  a  lady,  sitting  near  her. 

"  It  may  be  so,  but  I  speak,  at  least,  from  expe 
rience.  All  the  old  people  it  has  been  my  fortune, 
or  misfortune,  to  meet,  have  been  cross  in  temper 
and  repulsive  in  appearance.  I  have  an  old  aunt 
who  is  always  associated  in  my  mind  with  the 
Witch  of  Endor.  From  a  child  I  have  had  a 
perfect  horror  of  her.  I  doubt  if  she  ever  gave 
utterance  to  a  kind  or  uncomplaining  word  in  her 
life." 

"  You  must  not  judge  all  by  this  aunt,  my  young 
friend,"  said  the  lady.  "  There  are  handsome  and 
agreeable  old  people  in  the  world,  and  not  a  few 


122  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

of  them  either,  but  many.  Age  does  not  necessa- 
sour  the  temper,  nor  mar  the  countenance, 
e  is  such  a  thing  as  '  growing  old  gracefully,' 
and  the  number  of  those  who  are  thus  advancing 
along  the  paths  of  life,  I  am  pleased  to  say,  are 
increasing  yearly.  I  happen  to  have  an  old  aunt 
also,  but,  so  far  from  being  a  second  Witch  of 
Endor,  I  heard  a  gentleman,  not  many  days  ago, 
remark,  in  speaking  of  her,  '  Why,  every  wrinkle 
in  Mrs.  Elder's  face  is  a  line  of  beauty.'  And  so 
it  is ;  for  every  wrinkle  there  was  born  of  patient 
s  endurance,  or  unselfish  devotion  to  the  good  of 
others.  I  look  at  her  dear  old  face  often  and 
often,  and  say  to  myself,  'Now,  is  she  not  hand 
some?'" 

"  I  should  really  like  to  see  your  aunt,"  said  the 
young  girl,  half  skeptically. 

"  Come  to  my  house  to-morrow,  and  we  will  pay 
her  a  visit,"  answered  the  lady.  "  It  will  do  both 
of  us  good." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  invitation.  I  will  certainly 
call." 

The  next  day  came,  and  the  yoimg  lady  was 
early  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Barton. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Kate,"  was  the  pleasant  greet- 


EVERY   WRINKLE   A   LINE   OF   BEAUTY.  123 

ing  she  received.  "  We  are  to  call  on  my  aunt 
Elder  I  believe." 

"  Yes ;  you  promised  to  introduce  me  to  an  old 
lady  who,  so  far  from  being  cross  and  ugly,  is  sweet- 
tempered  and  beautiful.  The  sweet  temper  I  can 
imagine,  but  not  a  face  wrinkled  and  beautiful  at 
the  same  time." 

"  You  shall  see,"  was  answered. 

"  Ah,  good  morning,  Mary,"  said  a  low,  but  very 
pleasant  and  cheerful  voice,  as  the  two  ladies  en 
tered  the  small  but  neat  and  orderly  sitting-room  of 
Mrs.  Elder. 

"My  friend,  Miss  Kate  "Williams,"  said  Mrs. 
Barton,  presenting  the  young  lady. 

Mrs.  Elder  laid  heiOmittiiig>upon  a  table,  close 
to  her  open{^ibl§^and  rising,  took  the  hand  of  Miss 
"Williams,  looking  earnestly  into  her  young  face 
as  she  did  so,  and  smiling  so  sweet  a  welcome,  that 
Kate  did  not  see  a  wrinkle,  for  the  beautiful  light 
that  shone  from  the  old  lady's  placid  countenance. 

"I  am  always  pleased  to  see  young  faces," 
said  Mrs.  Elder,  "  and  to  feel  the  warmth  of  young 
hearts." 

"How  are  you  to-day,  aunt?'  inquired  Mrs. 
Barton. 


124:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"Not  so  well  in  body  as  when  you  were  here 
last.  I  sleep  but  poorly." 

Mrs.  Elder  smiled  as  if  she  were  telling  of  enjoy 
ments,  and  then  added — 

"  But  this  is  only  one  of  the  penalties  of  age.  I 
knew  it  must  come,  and  long  ago  made  up  my 
mind  to  be  patient  and  enduring.  These  are  some 
of  the  light  afflictions,  lasting  but  for  a  moment, 
which,  if  borne  in  Christian  meekness,  help  to 
work  out  for  us  that  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal 
weight  of  glory,  to  which  the  apostle  refers  in  one 
of  his  sublime  passages." 

Miss  Williams  looked  at  the  old  lady  half  won- 
deringly. 

"Always  doing  something,  Aunt  Elder,"  said 
Mrs.  Barton,  placing  her  hand  upon  the  half-knit 
yarn  stocking  which  the  old  lady  had  put  aside  as 
she  rose  to  take  the  hand  of  Miss  "Williams.  "  Knit 
ting,  I  suppose,  has  grown  into  a  kind  of  habit. 
The  act  brings  its  own  reward.  It  is  your  pleasant 
pastime." 

"No,  child,  not  my  pleasant  pastime,  but  my 
useful  employment,"  answered  Mrs.  Elder.  "I 
can't  do  much  in  this  world  for  other  people ;  still 
I  can  do  a  little,  and  I  am  thankful  for  the  privi- 


EVERT  WEINKLE  A  LE*E  OF  BEAUTY.     125 

lege ;  for  I  don't  believe  it  is  possible  for  anybody\ 
to  be  happy  who  is  not  engaged  in  some  useful!' 
employment.  I  manage  to  keep  the  children  of 
half  a  dozen  poor  families  in  warm  stockings  for 
the  winter,  and  that  is  something  added  to  the 
common  stock  of  human'comfort." 

The  eyes  of  Miss  Williams  were  now  fixed  in 
tently  upon  the  old  lady's  age-marked  features. 
"Wrinkles  went  curving  about  her  cheeks,  her  lips, 
and  chin,  and  wrinkles  planted  themselves  deeply 
upon  her  forehead.  Grey  hairs  were  visible  be 
neath  her  cap-border ;  her  calm  eyes  lay  far  back 
in  their  hollow  sockets;  the  symmetry  of  her 
mouth  was  gone ;  and  yet  it  seemed  to  the  young 
girl,  as  she  gazed  at  her  wonderingly,  as  if  every 
wrinkle  in  that  aged  face  were  indeed  a  line  of 
beauty ! 

"  But  you  must  have  a  surer  foundation  for  hap 
piness  than  knitting  stockings,"  said  Mrs.  Barton. 

The  old  lady  seemed  thoughtful  for  a  moment. 
She  then  said,  with  sweet  impressiveness — 

"There  is  only  one  foundation  upon  which  we 
can  rest  and  find  happiness,  and  that  is  God's  love 
in  the  heart.  "Hie  great  question  for  us  all  is,  How 
to  obtain  that  love,  It  will  not  come  at  our  com- 


126  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

mand.  We  cannot  drag  it  down  from  heaven. 
"We  cannot  find  it,  search  we  ever  so  diligently. 
God's  love  is  God-given;  and  he  bestows  it  only 
upon  those  who  first  have  neighborly  love.  This 
is  that  higher  love's  receptacle  in  the  human  heart.  • 
First,  love  of  the  neighbor;  then,  love  of  good, 
which  is  divine  love  in  the  soul,  the  sure  founda 
tion  for  abiding  happiness.  So  you  see,  Mary,  the 
value  of  even  knitting  stockings  to  one  like  me. 
It  is  useful  work,  and  that,  as  the  old  monk  said,  is 
worship." 

Miss  Williams  could  not  withdraw  her  eyes  from 
the  old  lady's  face.  Its  beauty  and  its  goodness 
seemed  to  fascinate  her.  She  was  a  girl  of  quick 
feelings  and  some  enthusiasm.  Suddenly  rising 
from  the  chair  she  had  taken  a  few  moments  be 
fore,  she  came  forward,  and  stooping  over  Mrs. 
Elder,  kissed  her,  almost  reverently,  on  the  fore 
head,  saying,  as  she  did  so — 

"May  I  be  like  you  when  I  grow  old — every 
wrinkle  in  my  face  a  line  of  beauty !" 

"  Grow  old  in  goodness,  my  dear  young  friend !" 
answered  Mrs.  Elder,  taking  her  hand  tightly 
within  her  own,  and  speaking  with  emotion — for 
the  young  girl's  sudden  speech  had  stirred  her  feel- 


EVERY   WRINKLE   A   LINE   OF  BEAUTY.  127 

ings  to  an  unusual  depth — "  Grow  old  in  goodness, 
through  the  discipline  of  self-denial  and  the  gentle 
leadings  of  neighborly  love.  It  is  the  only  path 
that  conducts  to  a  peaceful  old  age." 

"Thanks  for  the  lesson  you  have  taught  me," 
said  Miss  "Williams,  when  she  again  clasped  the 
hand  of  Mrs.  Elder  in  parting.  "I  will  try  to 
grow  old,  as  the  years  pass  inevitably  onwards,  in 
the  better  way  that  you  have  walked.  And  may 
my  last  days  be,  like  yours,  my  best  days,  and 
radiant  with  light  shining  down  from  the  better 
world." 

" I  am  a  skeptic  no  longer"  (she  was  now  in  the 
street  with  Mrs.  Barton) ;  "  beauty  and  age  are  not 
incompatible." 

"  But  the  beauty  of  age,"  replied  Mrs.  Barton, 
"  is  unlike  the  beauty  of  youth  ;  the  one  is  natural, 
the  other  spiritual  and  celestial.  The  one  is  of  the 
earth — earthly ;  the  other  is  of  the  heavens — hea 
venly.  An  evil  soul  gradually  mars  the  face,  until 
every  lineament  becomes  repulsive;  ln;t  a  scul  of 
goodness  continually  recreates  the  countenance, 
and  covers  it  with  living  beauty." 


128          STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 


XII. 

DIED    POOE. 

"  IT  was  a  sad  funeral  to  me,"  said  the  speaker , 
"  the  saddest  I  have  attended  for  many  years." 

"That  of  Edmonson?" 

"Yes." 

"How  did  he  die?" 

"  Poor — poor  as  poverty.  His  life  was  one  long 
struggle  with  the  world,  and  at  every  disadvan 
tage.  Fortune  mocked  him  all  the  while  with 
golden  promises  that  were  destined  never  to  know 
fulfillment." 

"  Yet,  he  was  patient  and  enduring,"  remarked 
one  of  the  company. 

"  Patient  as  a  Christian — enduring  as  a  martyr," 
was  answered.  "  Poor  man !  He  was  worthy  of  a 
better  fate.  He  ought  to  have  succeeded,  for  he 
deserved  success." 

"  Did  he  not  succeed  ?"  questioned  the  one  who 
had  spoken  of  his  patience  and  endurance. 


DIED   POOR.  129 

"No,  sir.  He  died  poor,  as  I  have  just  said. 
Nothing  that  he  put  his  hand  to  ever  succeeded.  A 
strange  fatality  seemed  to  attend  every  enterprise." 

"  I  was  with  him  in  his  last  moments,"  said  the 
other,  "  and  I  thought  he  died  rich." 

"  No.  He  has  left  nothing  behind,"  was  replied. 
"  The  heirs  will  have  no  concern  as  to  the  adminis 
tration  of  his  estate." 

"  He  left  a  good  name,"  said  one,  "  and  that  is 
something." 

"And  a  legacy  of  noble  deeds  that  were  done  in 
the  name  of  humanity,"  remarked  another. 

"And  precious  examples,"  said  a  third. 

"Lessons  of  patience  in  suffering;  of  hope  in 
adversity ;  of  heavenly  confidence,  when  no  sun 
beams  fell  upon  his  bewildering  path,"  was  the 
testimony  of  another. 

"And  high  truths,  manly  courage,  heroic  forti 
tude." 

"  Then  he  died  rich !"  was  the  emphatic  declara 
tion.  "  Richer  than  the  millionaire  who  went  to 
his  long  home  on  the  same  day,  a  miserable  pauper 
in  all  but  gold.  A  sad  funeral,  did  you  say  ?  No, 
my  friend,  it  was,  rather,  a  triumphal  procession ! 
Not  the  burial  of  a  human  clod,  but  the  ceremo- 
6* 


130  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

nials  attendant  on  the  translation  of  an  angel.  Did 
not  succeed !  Why,  his  whole  life  was  a  series  of 
successes.  In  every  conflict  he  came  off  the  victor, 
and  now  the  victor's  crown  is  on  his  brow.  Any 
grasping,  soulless,  selfish  man,  with  a  moderate  share 
of  brains,  may  gather  in  money,  and  learn  the  art  of 
keeping  it ;  but  not  one  in  a  hundred  can  bravely 
conquer  in  the  battle  of  life  as  Edmonson  has  con 
quered,  and  step  forth  from  the  ranks  of  men,  a 
Christian  hero.  No,  no;  he  did  not  die  poor,  but 
rich — rich  in  neighborly  love,  and  rich  in  celestial 
affections.  And  his  heirs  have  an  interest  in  the 
adminisiration  of  his  estate.  A  large  property  has 
been  left,  and  let  them  see  to  it  that  they  do  not 
lose  precious  things  through  false  estimates  and 
ignorant  depreciations." 

"  You  have  a  new  way  of  estimating  the  wealth 
of  a  man,"  said  the  one  who  had  first  expressed 
sympathy  for  the  deceased. 

"  Is  it  not  the  right  way  ?"  was  answered. 
"  There  are  higher  things  to  gain  in  this  world, 
than  wealth  that  perishes.  Riches  of  priceless 
value  ever  reward  the  true  merchant,  who  trades 
for  wisdom,  buying  it  with  the  silver  of  truth  and 
the  gold  of  love.  He  dies  rich  who  can  take  his 


DIED   POOR.  131 

treasure  with  him  to  the  new  land  where  he  is  to 
abide  forever,  and  he  who  has  to  leave  all  behind 
on  which  he  has  placed  affection,  dies  poor  indeed. 
Our  friend  Edmonson  died  richer  than  a  Girard  or 
an  Astor  ;  his  monument  is  built  of  good  deeds  and 
noble  examples.  It  will  abide  forever." 


132  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 


XIII. 

CUESED   WITH   BLESSINGS. 

"  CTJBSED  with  blessings."  I  closed  the  page,  and 
leaned  back  in  reflection. 

"Here  is  another  paradox,"  said  I.  "Cursed 
with  blessings!  It  is  simply  a  contradiction  in 
terms.  What  does  the  writer  mean  ?" 

I  turned  to  the  page  again,  and  read  on.  "  There 
is  such  a  thing  as  being  cursed  with  blessings,  so 
that  the  earthly  good  a  man  seeks,  shall  become  the 
greatest  evil  that  can  be  visited  upon  him." 

Some  gleams  of  light  passed  into  my  mind. 
Thought  and  memory  went  to  work;  and  soon 
around  the  proposition  gathered  a  host  of  illustrat 
ing  incidents.  I  remembered  the  case  of  a  man 
who,  in  early  and  middle  life,  always,  in  family 
prayer,  brought  in  the  petition — "Increase  our 
basket  and  store."  And  the  worldly  good  things 
ho  so  much  desired,  came ;  came  in  rich  abundance. 


CURSED   WITH   BLESSINGS.  133 

He  added  house  to  house,  until  his  rents  flowed 
back  upon  him,  a  princely  income.  But,  his  selfish 
heart  made  all  his  earthly  blessings  a  curse.  Like 
the  miser,  his  life  was  in  his  possessions ;  and  when 
anything  threatened  these,  trouble  of  spirit  arose. 
The  dread  of  loss  by  fire,  haunted  him  like  a  mur 
derer's  conscience.  He  insured ;  but  felt  only  half 
protected  by  insurance,  for  there  were  dishonest 
companies,  flaws  in  contracts,  quibbles  in  the  law. 
He  had  suffered  one  loss  in  this  way.  It  was  not 
serious,  but  enough  to  break  his  faith  in  Insurance 
as  a  reliable  protection  against  fire.  And  so,  every 
stroke  of  the  alarm  bell,  by  night  or  by  day,  gave 
a  shock  to  his  nerves,  and  sent  a  pang  of  fear  to  his 
heart.  Sweet,  refreshing  sleep,  became  a  stranger 
to  his  pillow.  The  ghost  of  apprehension  was  for 
ever  by  his  side,  a  fearful  vision. 

Then  came  a  morbid  dread  of  poverty ;  and,  after 
a  time,  his  day-dreams  and  fitful  night-visions 
began  to  be  of  pauperism  and  the  almshouse.  A  t 
sixty  he  was  insane,  from  this  cause,  and  died,  in 
the  hallucination  of  abject  want,  leaving  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars  of  property,  which  passed  to  heirs, 
who  made  the  blessing  a  curse  also,  as  he  had  done, 
but  in  another  way.  In  five  years  from  his  death, 


134:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

his  two  sons  realized  their  father's  fears,  and  now 
fill  paupers'  graves. 

"  Cursed  with  blessings !  Even  BO  1"  I  said,  as 
memory  closed  the  page  on  which  this  history  was 
recorded.  "  Like  the  manna  which  the  children  of 
Israel  gathered  in  the  wilderness,  life's  blessings 
must  be  used  to-day — if  hoarded  selfishly,  they 
will  not  keep." 

Another  illustration  memory  gave.  I  knew  a 
man  who  set  his  heart  upon  wealth,  as  a  means  of 
comfort  in  old  age.  "  I  am  willing  to  work  now," 
he  used  to  say,  "  while  I  am  young  and  vigorous ; 
though  business  is  distasteful  to  me.  I  love  ease 
and  freedom,  and  for  the  sake  of  gaining  them,  I 
toil  on  in  early  manhood." 

And  while  he  toiled  on  he  was  comparatively 
happy.  I  can  remember  him  as  one  of  the  most 
cheerful  men  in  my  circle  of  acquaintance.  But 
competence  rewarded  his  labor  ere  yet  his  sun  of 
life  had  swept  beyond  the  zenith,  and  his  "  basket 
and  store  "  were  full.  His  toil  crowned  him  with 
blessings.  And  so  he  retired  from  the  busy  world 
to  enjoy  these  good  things  which  had  come  to  him 
in  return  for  useful  industry.  Alas  for  my  friend ! 
He  had  no  taste  for  books,  no  love  of  art,  no  fond- 


CTJK8ED   WITH   BLESSIKG8.  135 

ness  for  country  life,  or  pleasant  gardening.  His 
mind  had  been  educated  only  in  one  direction.  He 
was  a  man  of  business,  and  that  alone.  And  so, 
he  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  sit  down  and  enjoy 
himself.  How  impossible  that  was,  he  discovered 
in  less  than  a  month.  During  the  first  and  second 
seasons  he  tried  Cape  May,  Saratoga,  Newport,  and 
a  trip  down  the  Lakes  and  the  St.  Lawrence.  But 
he  did  not  really  enjoy  himself.  How  could  he? 
There  is  no  enjoyment  for  a  man  living  without  a 
purpose.  Mere  killing  time  is  only  a  slow,  soul- 
killing  operation,  and  is  always  accompanied  by 
pain. 

Ten  years  ago  it  was  when  my  friend  retired 
from  business,  to  enjoy  his  fortune.  His  cup  of 
blessing  was  full,  and  he  has  been  holding  it  to  his 
lips  ever  since,  trying  to  find  sweetness  in  the 
draught ;  but,  judging  from  the  expression  of  his 
face,  the  tone  of  his  voice,  and  the  character  of  his 
remarks,  I  think  the  wine  in  his  cup  must  be 
dashed  with  unusual  bitterness.  His  blessing  has 
become  a  curse. 

Another  received  a  moderate  fortune  from  a  dis 
tant  relative.  He  happened  to  be  heir-at-law,  and 
the  relative  dying  without  a  will,  he  came  most 


136  8TEP8   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

unexpectedly  into  possession  of  about  thirty-five 
thousand  dollars  in  cash.  He  was  a  clerk,  with  a 
salary  of  one  thousand  dollars  a  year,  living  frugal- 
y  with  his  wife  and  two  children  in  a  small,  rented 
house.  Few  men  enjoyed  life  with  a  keener  zest 
than  this  young  man.  But  the  fortune  proved  his 
ruin.  The  clerkship  was  at  once  given  up  for  a 
business  venture ;  the  hired  house  for  a  handsome 
purchased  dwelling ;  omnibus  rides  for  drives  in  an 
elegant  carriage ;  social  tea  companies  for  elegant 
parties.  His  course  was  brilliant  but  brief.  The 
blessing  was  made  a  curse.  Soured,  dissatisfied, 
maddened  by  a  sudden  fall  from  the  height  up  to 
which  he  had  soared,  away  down  into  the  valley  of 
abject  poverty,  he  lost  self-respect  and  self-control. 
Drink  made  the  ruin  complete.  His  pale  widow 
sits  toiling  now,  early  and  late,  striving  to  keep  the 
wolf  of  hunger  from  her  door. 

Shall  we  go  on,  varying  these  illustrations  of  the 
text  ?  They  may  be  taken  from  every  condition  in 
life,  and  from  all  of  its  wide  relations.  There  is  not 
a  reader  who  cannot  supply  his  quota,  and  set  them 
even  in  stronger  light  than  we  have  done.  And 
there  is  not  a  reader  who  may  not,  with  the  writer 
find  in  his  own  past  history  almost  unnumbered 


CUBBED   WITH   BLESSINGS.  137 

instances,  in  which  he  has  turned  his  good  things 
into  evil ;  his  blessing  into  cursing.  We  all  do  it, 
when  we  let  affection  rest  in  mere  natural  and 
sensual  things,  instead  of  making  these  things 
ministers  of  the  soul's  higher  life.  Worldly  pos 
sessions  are  blessings,  if  acquired  as  a  means  to 
useful  ends ;  but  they  curse  us,  when  we  make 
them  our  chief est  good. 


138  STEPS   TOWAKDS   HEAVEN. 


XIY. 
HE  THAT  OYEKCOMETH. 

"  You  will  be  at  the  meeting  to-night,"  said  a 
clergyman  to  an  influential  member  of  his  society, 
speaking  in  an  affirmative  voice. 

"  No,"  was  the  decisive  answer ;  "  I  shall  remain 
at  home." 

"  Why  so,  Mr.  Percival  ?"  asked  the  clergyman, 
manifesting  surprise. 

"  It  is  better  for  me  to  stay  away." 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

"  I  am  too  excitable.  The  way  in  which  some  of 
our  members  speak  and  act  in  these  church  meet 
ings  chafes  and  annoys  me  to  such  a  degree  that  I 
lose  temper,  and  say  things  that  do  harm  rather 
than  good ;  so  I  have  concluded  to  stay  at  home, 
and  let  matters  take  their  course." 

"  Is  that  right,  brother  Percival?"  The  minister 
looked  at  his  parishioner  with  a  sober  countenance. 


HE  THAT   OVEKCOMETH.  139 

"  It  is  best,"  was  answered. 

"Best  for  what?" 

"  Best  for  my  peace  of  mind,  at  least." 

"  Even  though  disorderly  measures  are  carried 
in  your  absence,  and  the  church  sustains  an  injury 
in  consequence  ?" 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  that  such  will  be  the  case," 
Mr.  Percival  answered. 

"  There  is  an  important  measure  to  be  sustained 
or  abandoned  this  evening." 

"  I  know." 

"  You  are  in  the  affirmative  ?" 

« I  am." 

"  And  you  consider  this  measure  of  vital  impor 
tance  to  the  church  ?" 

"I  do." 

"  And  yet  deliberately  propose  an  abandonment 
of  your  post  of  duty  ?" 

"  I  am  not  fit  to  take  the  post  of  duty.  My  tem 
per  is  too  excitable." 

The  minister  gazed  for  some  moments  into  the 
face  of  Mr.  Percival,  and  then  said — 

"  I  was  reading  to-day  in  the  book  of  Revela 
tions,  and  noted  a  certain  passage  as  involving  a 
most  important  doctrine.  It  was  this :  '  To  him  that 


14:0  STEPS  TOWABDS  HEAVEN. 

overcometk  will  I  give  to  eat  of  the  tree  of  life.'  I 
read  on,  and  soon  the  same  doctrine  was  repeated, 
but  with  a  new  assurance — '  He  that  overcometh 
shall  not  be  hurt  of  the  second  death.'  Still  I  read, 
and  again  the  doctrine  was  announced,  in  the 
words,  '  He  that  overcometk,  the  same  shall  be 
clothed  in  white  raiment ;  and  I  will  not  blot  out 
his  name  out  of  the  book  of  life.'  Now,  what  is  it 
that  we  are  to  overcome  in  order  that  we  may  '  eat 
of  the  tree  of  life,'  and  '  not  be  hurt  of  the  second 
death.'  Think,  my  dear  brother,  and  answer  this 
question  in  your  own  heart." 

"  We  must  overcome  evil,"  replied  Mr.  Percival, 
after  a  pause.  His  voice  was  rather  sober. 

"  This  impulsive  temper  of  which  you  complain," 
said  the  minister,  "  is  certainly  an  evil,  if  it  hin 
ders  your  usefulness  to  such  a  degree  as  to  keep 
you  away  from  duty." 

Mr.  Percival  bent  his  head,  while  a  shade  of 
concern  passed  over  his  features. 

"  Is  not  the  way  plain  before  you,  my  brother  ?" 
The  promise  of  life  eternal  is  to  him  that  overcom- 
eth.  You  must  overcome  if  you  would  not  be  hurt 
of  the  second  death." 

"  Is  it  not  far  better,"  said  Mr.  Percival,  "  know- 


HE    THAT   OVEKCOMETH. 

ing  this  weakness  of  nature,  to  keep  myself  free 
from  temptation." 

"  Will  that  be  a  conquest  of  evil  ?'  The  cowardly 
soldier  might  offer  the  same  reason  for  not  ventur 
ing  into  battle,  lest  he  disgrace  himself,  and  injure 
his  country,  by  running  away.  No,  no ;  this  will 
not  do.  You  must  conquer  the  foes  of  heaven 
upon  the  battle-field  of  your  own  heart.  You  must 
overcome" 

Mr.  Percival  bent  his  head  again,  and  did  not 
answer. 

"  Go  to  this  meeting  to-night,"  said  the  clergyman, 
after  a  brief  silence.  "  Go  to  do  your  duty ;  and 
in  the  divine  strength,  that  will  surely  be  given  to 
you,  if  you  strive  for  victory  over  your  easily-be 
setting  sin,  will  you  conquer  and  stand  up  a  man. 
Go.  A  good  cause  has  need  of  your  best  efforts." 

"  I  thank  you  for  this  wise  counsel,"  replied  Mr. 
Percival.  "  I  see  that  you  are  right.  I  must  not 
let  this  sin,  that  doth  so  easily  beset  me,  hold  me 
back,  a  coward,  from  my  place,  when  God  calls 
me  to  stand  up  for  the  right.  I  must  overcome, 
and,  God  helping  me,  I  will." 

"  Now  you  are  in  the  right  spirit,"  said  the  min 
ister,  encouragingly.      "  Hold  fast  to  this    good 


142          STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

purpose,  and  go  in  this  state  of  heavenly  trust. 
You  will  return  from  the  meeting  to-night  a 
stronger  and  a  happier  man." 

Under  this  view  of  the  case,  Mr.  Percival  could 
not  absent  himself  from  the  church-meeting.  But 
he  went  with  a  guard  set  over  his  feelings,  and  a 
bridle  on  his  tongue.  There  was  one  member  who 
always  led  an  opposition,  no  matter  what  the  sub 
ject  under  consideration.  It  was  only  necessary 
to  make  a  move  towards  doing  something,  to  insure 
objection ;  and  as  he  was  a  cool  talker,  and  had  a 
great  deal  of  self-possession,  he  generally  managed 
to  carry  a  party  with  him.  Towards  this  indi 
vidual,  whose  name  was  Earned,  Mr.  Percival  did 
not  entertain  very  kind  feelings  ;  and  whenever  he 
opposed  him,  it  was  with  excitement  of  manner, 
and,  too  often,  with  intemperance  of  speech.  Thus 
he  lost  influence  in  his  opposition ;  and  always 
came  away  from  such  meetings  deeply  mortified  at 
his  want  of  self-control. 

The  business  of  the  evening  had  progressed 
almost  to  a  conclusion,  without  a  remark  from  Mr. 
Percival,  who  sat  a  little  apart  from  the  rest,  so 
quiet  and  absorbed  that  few  thought  him  at  all  in 
terested  in  the  subject  under  discussion.  Mr 


HE   THAT   OVERCOMETH.  14:3 

Larned,  as  usual,  was  in  the  opposition,  and  his 
cool,  specious  way  of  talking  had  gained  over  to 
his  side  quite  a  large  number  of  the  superficial 
minds  in  the  assembly,  and  there  was  danger  of 
defeat  to  a  cause,  the  advocates  of  which  had  only 
the  best  interests  of  religion  in  view.  The  minister 
and  others  glanced  towards  Mr.  Percival ;  but  he 
neither  moved  nor  looked  up.  At  last,  the  vote 
was  about  being  taken.  Then,  and  not  till  then, 
did  the  excitable  member,  who  saw  the  whole 
subject  in  the  clearest  light,  venture  to  take  the 
floor.  He  did  so  with  a  prayer  on  his  lips — a 
prayer  for  aid  in  his  struggle  for  self-control.  His 
voice  trembled  a  little  as  he  began,  and  those  who 
knew  him  well  expected  soon  the  old  vehemence, 
and  intemperance  of  manner.  But  a  new  spirit 
was  at  work  in  the  heart  of  Mr.  Percival,  which 
soon  showed  itself  in  even  tones,  and  a  deliberate 
enunciation.  He  took  up  the  subject  under  con 
sideration,  and  presented  it  in  so  many  new 
lights,  that  numbers  who  had  regarded  it  as  of 
minor  importance,  now  saw  it  as  a  measure  which 
it  was  clearly  their  duty  to  support.  He  finished, 
without  a  single  unkind  word,  sharp  invective,  or 
angry  denunciation. 

It  was  the  usual  course  of  things  for  Mr.  Larned 


STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

to  reply  to  Mr.  Percival's  hot  speech,  in  his  cool, 
semi-sarcastic  way,  and  neutralize,  with  a  large 
number,  all  that  was  really  valuable  in  what  he 
had  said.  The  contrast  between  his  manner  and 
that  of  Mr.  Percival,  no  one  saw  more  plainly  than 
did  Mr.  Percival  himself;  who  also  perceived,  but 
when  too  late,  that  he  owed  defeat  to  his  own 
quick,  blinding  temper. 

Now,  however,  Mr.  Larned,  on  rising  to  answer 
the  forcibly  stated  argument  of  Mr.  Percival,  found 
himself  without  power.  There  had  been  no  intem 
perate  warmth ;  no  blundering  confusion  of  ideas  ; 
but  a  calm,  rational  directness  of  speech,  that  car 
ried  conviction  to  almost  every  mind — not  except 
ing  that  of  the  always  opposing  member.  When 
the  question  was  taken,  the  measure  passed  by  an 
almost  unanimous  vote. 

"  The  first  fruits,  my  brother,"  said  the  minister, 
as  he  walked  away  from  the  meeting  with  Mr.  Per 
cival.  "  And  if  they  be  of  such  goodly  size  and 
quality,  in  the  beginning,  what  may  we  not 
expect  from  the  full  grown  tree.  You  have  done 
nobly — nobly.  '  He  that  is  slow  to  anger  is  better 
than  the  mighty ;  and  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit,  than 
he  that  taketh  a  city.' " 

"  It  was  a  hard  struggle,"  answered  Mr.  Percival, 


HE   THAT    OVFftCOMETH.  145 

more  in  humility  than  exultation.  "  A  very  hard 
struggle.  I  so  dreaded,  knowing  my  infirmity,  to 
take  the  floor,  that  nothing  but  an  overpowering 
sense  of  duty  could  have  driven  me  to  my  feet.  I 
saw  the  whole  subject  in  clear  light,  and  all  the 
arguments  in  its  favor  were  on  my  tongue's  end. 
But  I  feared  the  blinding  influence  of  a  hasty  tem 
per.  Thank  Heaven !  I  was  able  to  overcome  in 
the  struggle." 

"  And  so  accomplished  a  double  good,"  said  the 
minister.  "Good  for  yourself,  and  good  for  a  cause 
that  needed  your  advocacy.  And  now,  my  bro 
ther,"  added  the  minister,  "let  the  valuable  lesson 
this  night  received,  go  with  you  through  life. 
Never  shrink  from  duty  because  of  fear  lest  you 
are  not  equal  to  the  struggle  against  natural  evil, 
which  may  be  required.  The  Christian  must  over 
come  natural  evil.  Must  put  down  the  strong  man 
of  sin.  Must  succeed  in  every  struggle  with  wrong. 
We  must  be  conquerors  here,  if  we  would  receive 
the  victor's  crown  hereafter..  He  that  overc&meth 
sJiall  not  1)&  hurt  of  the  second  death" 


14.6  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 


XY. 

THE  TRIALS  OF  A  DAT. 

BABY  had  not  slept  well ;  and  the  mother,  robbed 
during  the  night  of  her  refreshing  slumber,  awoke 
later  than  usual  in  the  morning.  Her  first  sensa 
tions  were  of  lassitude  and  exhaustion — her  first 
consciousness,  that  of  being  behind  time  for  the 
day.  She  started  up  as  soon  as  she  was  fairly 
awake,  with  a  hurried  feeling,  and  commenced 
dressing  herself  in  haste ;  but  scarcely  had  she  left 
her  bed  before  the  baby  missed  her,  and  com 
menced  crying  to  be  taken  up.  Her  husband,  Mr. 
Samuel  Jenkins,  who  liked  to  indulge  in  a  quiet 
morning  nap,  was  disturbed  by  this  untimely  and, 
to  his  ears,  very  discordant,  music,  and  spoke  out 
rather  sharply  to  the  baby,  which  frightened  her, 
and  set  her  to  crying  with  increased  violence. 

"  Why  don't  you  take  her  up,  Jane  ?"  growled 
the  half-asleep  and  half-awake  husband, 


THE   TRIALS   OF   A   DAT.  147 

"  I  will  when  I'm  dressed,"  replied  Mrs.  Jenkins 
with  manifest  irritation. 

"  Then  dress  in  double  quick  time.  This  din  is 
horrible !"  said  Mr.  Jenkins,  who  was  a  rough  sort 
of  a  man,  though  well  meaning  in  a  general  way. 

Poor  Mrs.  Jenkins  was  not  helped  by  this  in 
the  smallest  degree.  Her  hands  shook,  and  her 
knees  trembled,  as  she  hurried  on  her  garments, 
and  drew  them  together.  Baby's  screams  increased 
in  power  up  to  the  moment  the  last  pin  was  .in 
serted,  and  did  not  cease  until  lifted  from  the  bed 
and  held  tightly  against  her  mother's  bosom.  The 
pale  face,  that  bent  itself  down  until  it  touched  the 
face  of  the  little  one,  was  now  wet  with  tears.  The 
mother  felt  weak  and  discouraged. 

Mrs.  Jenkins  had  recently  become  a  church 
member,  and  was  trying  to  regulate  her  life  by  the 
pure  precepts  of  religion.  Her  husband,  on  the 
other  hand,  cared  for  little  beyond  his  business; 
and  sought  for  the  accomplishments  of  nothing 
besides  the  merest  natural  ends.  The  boundaries 
of  this  world  limited  his  hopes  and  aspirations.  In 
the  main,  he  was  a  kind  husband,  and,  in  the  esti 
mation  of  his  neighbors,  "  a  good  sort  of  a  man, 
but  wide  awake  to  his  own  interests."  Mr.  Jen.- 


i4:b  STEPS   TOWAKD 


kins  had  not  yet  learned  to  think  out  of  himself,  as 
it  were,  nor  to  calculate  with  accuracy  the  effect 
of  his  words  and  conduct  upon  others.  The  conse 
quence  was,  that  he  was  all  the  time  doing  or  say 
ing  something  that  hurt  or  shadowed  the  feelings 
of  his  wife,  who  was  sensitive.  In  his  rough  speech 
and  imperative  demand  about  the  baby,  Mr.  Jenkins 
did  not  feel  half  the  ill  nature  that  to  his  wife  was 
expressed  in  his  voice  and  manner,  and  was  wholly 
unconscious  of  the  jar  and  pain  they  occasioned. 

As  Mrs.  Jenkins  sat  with  her  tearful  face  pressed 
down  upon  the  face  of  her  now  quiet  baby,  she 
endeavored  to  lift  her  heart  upwards  in  a  prayer 
for  strength  to  endure  patiently  the  trials  of  her 
life  ;  but,  even  while  the  petition  quivered  on  her 
lips,  a  call  from  waking  children  in  the  next  room 
drew  back  her  thoughts,  and  gave  another  jar  to 
her  feelings  ;  for  the  call  was  made  in  fretful  voices, 
accompanied  by  the  too-well  known  signs  of  con 
tention.  The  sudden  start  she  gave  sent  a  pain, 
through  her  head. 

"  Oh,  dear  !"  sighed  the  mother,  "  my  strength  is 
not  equal  to  my  burdens.  If  I  felt  well  and  strong, 
it  would  be  different  ;  but,  in  my  weak  state,  how 
can  I  keep  up  ?  —  How  can  I  do  my  duty  2" 


TRIALS   OF  A   DAT.  149 


"  Mother  !"  called  the  loud,  angry  voice  of  a 
little  girl,  "  make  Anna  give  me  my  stocking  1" 

"  I  hav'n't  got  her  stocking  !"  retorted  Anna, 
in  even  a  louder  and  more  ear-shocking  voice. 

"You  have,  I  say!  Now  give  it  to  me  this 
minute  !" 

"  It  is  not  yours  !    I  won't  1" 

"Mother!" 

"  Good  gracious,  Jane  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Jenkins, 
starting  up  in  bed,  "  why  don't  you  stop  that  quar 
relling?  It's  dreadful  !" 

Mrs.  Jenkins  did  not  reply  to  her  husband, 
although  a  cutting  retort  came  to  her  lips,  but 
went  immediately  into  the  next  room  to  restore 
harmony,  if  possible.  She  found  her  two  little 
girls  struggling  together  for  the  possession  of  a 
stocking  that  each  claimed.  To  punish  them  both 
on  the  spot,  was  the  first  impulse  of  her  mind;  and 
she  had  even  raised  her  hand,  in  sudden  anger,  to 
strike,  when  better  counsels  prevailed. 

"  I  must  control  myself,  as  a  Christian  woman," 
she  said,  "  or  I  cannot  control  them." 

And  so  she  held  back  resolutely  her  excited  feel 
ings,  and  merely  uttered,  with  forced  calmness,  yet 
in  grave  rebuke,  the  names  of  her  children.  The 


150          STEPS  TOWABDS  HEAVEN. 

two  little  girls  were  passive  instantly.  There  was 
something  in  the  tone  and  look  of  their  mother 
which  they  felt  no  inclination  to  oppose.  It  went 
past  their  external  strife  of  feeling,  and  calmed  the 
inner  turbulence  at  once. 

"  Now,  let  me  see  the  stocking."  She  spoke  in 
a  low,  but  serious  voice. 

Anna  placed  the  stocking  in  her  mother's  hand. 
Mrs.  Jenkins  looked  at  it  for  a  moment,  and  then 
held  it  close  to  the  eyes  of  the  little  girl. 

""Whose  stocking  is  that,  Anna?"  she  asked 
steadily. 

"  Mary's,"  answered  the  child,  crimsoning,  and 
hanging  down  her  head. 

"  You  said  just  now  it  was  yours." 

"  I  thought  it  was." 

"  I  think  I  heard  you  call  Mary  a  bad  name. 
"Was  that  right  ?" 

"  No,  ma'am,"  answered  the  child,  subdued  by 
the  calmness  of  her  mother's  exterior. 

"  Why  did  you  call  her  that  name  ?" 

"  I  was  angry,"  said  Anna. 

"  And  hardly  knew  what  you  were  saying  or 
doingr 91' 

u  I  don't  tmnk  I  did,  motaer.     BUG  JL-JK  sorry  ; 


THE  TRIALS   OF   A   DAT.  151 

and  if  you'll  forgive  me,  I'll  ask  Mary's  pardon,  for 
I  was  most  to  blame." 

Now  Mrs.  Jenkins  was  really  taken  by  surprise 
at  this  confession  and  repentance  on  the  part  of  the 
passionate,  self-willed  child,  whose  passion  and 
self-will  she  had  so  often  tried  in  vain  to  subdue 
and  control ;  but  never  with  so  strong  a  hand  upon 
her  own  feelings  as  now.  Her  voice  trembled  a 
little  as  she  answered — 

"Mary  is  not  altogether  blameless.  She  per 
mitted  angry  feelings  to  disturb  her  heart,  and 
harsh  words  to  fall  from  her  tongue.  I  do  not, 
therefore,  think  that  she  will  permit  you  to  ask  her 
pardon;  for  she  has  sinned  also — sinned  against 
that  good  God,  whose  loving  angels  have  been 
round  your  pillows  all  the  night,  protecting  you 
from  evil.  How  much  better  would  it  have  been, 
my  children,  if  your  voices  had  been  lifted  in  a 
hymn  of  thanksgiving.  You  have  made  me  feel 
sad — very  sad." 

By  this  time  all  resentment  had  died  out  of  the 
children's  hearts,  and  the  almost  mournful  voice  of 
their  mother  filled  them  with  sorrow  and  regret. 

"Love  each  other  as  God  has  loved  you,"  said 
Mrs.  Jenkins,  kissing  her  little  girla.  Tears  fell 


152  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

over  her  cheeks,  for  her  feelings  were  touched  and 
softened. 

"Don't  cry,  mother!  don't  cry!"  urged  Anna 
and  Mary,  throwing  their  small  white  arms  around 
her  neck.  "We'll  be  good!  "We  won't  quarrel 
any  more.  Don't  cry  1" 

Again  the  mother  kissed  her  children,  saying — 

"  If  you  will  love  each  other,  I  shall  be  happy." 

"Oh,  we  will,  mother!  we  will!"  exclaimed 
Anna;  "and  we'll  help  you  so  much.  I'll  dress 
myself  as  quickly  as  I  can,  and  hold  dear  little 
Eddy  for  you." 

"  Thank  you,  dear !  That  will  be  so  nice  I"  an 
swered  the  mother. 

"And  I'll  go  down  and  help  about  setting  the 
table,"  said  Mary.  "  I  can  put  on  the  plates  and 
the  napkins,  and  the  knives  and  forks." 

"  "What  smart  little  girls  I  have !"  was  the 
mother's  encouraging  answer.  "  You  shall  do  all 
that,  Mary.  So  make  haste  and  get  on  your  clothes. 
But,  remember,  the  hair  must  be  nicely  brushed, 
and  everything  about  you  as  neat  as  a  new  pin. 
My  dining-room  girl  must  be  the  pink  of  tidiness." 

Singularly  enough,  when  Mrs.  Jenkins  thought 
about  her  head-ache,  it  was  gone ;  and  so  was  tho 


THE   TRIALS   OF   A   DAT.  153 

extreme  lassitude  from  which  she  had  suffered  on 
rising.  A  new  life  seemed  coursing  through  her 
veins ;  and  she  was  half  in  wonder  at  the  change. 

"  Set  baby  on  the  bed,  mother,"  said  Anna.  "  I 
can  play  with  him  and  dress  too." 

"I'm  afraid  he  will  cry,  and  disturb  your 
father." 

" !No,  he  won't.  Set  him  down.  I'll  keep  him 
laughing,  instead  of  crying ;  see  if  I  don't." 

The  baby  felt,  also,  the  new  sphere  that  was 
pervading  the  room.  He  did  not  resist  when  his 
mother  attempted  to  place  him  on  the  bed,  and 
made  no  objection  to  being  left  alone  with  Anna. 

So  that  first  trial  of  the  day  was  passed  through, 
and  Mrs.  Jenkins,  in  endeavoring  to  meet  it  in  a 
better  spirit  than  usual,  had  risen  above  the  dark 
ness,  the  irritation,  and  oppressive  weakness  that 
seemed  as  if  they  would  bear  her  down  to  the  very 
earth.  Even  physical  pain  and  exhaustion  had 
disappeared  under  the  influence  of  a  new  condition 
of  mind.  Mary  soon  followed  her  mother  down 
stairs,  and  aided,  with  cheerfulness  and  alacrity,  in 
Betting  the  breakfast  table,  and  putting  things  in 
order.  She  was  a  bright  little  girl,  and  only  needed 
a  calmly  controlling  will,  and  a  wisely  directing 

1* 


154:  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

hand,  to  make  her  orderly  and  useful.  It  was  the 
same  with  Anna,  who,  though  quick-tempered,  had 
good  impulses. 

Mr.  Jenkins,  who  had  been  wakened  by  the 
baby's  loud  crying,  and  a  second  time  roused  from 
pleasant  morning  slumbers,  by  the  angry  strife  of 
Anna  and  Mary,  heard,  half  in  wonder,  the  calm 
words  which  his  wife  had  addressed  to  the  chil 
dren,  who,  in  his  regard,  deserved  summary  pun 
ishment,  to  begin  with,  and  talking  to  afterwards. 
He  knew  that  his  wife's  mind  was  interested  on  the 
subject  of  religion,  and  that  she  had  become  a 
church  member;  but  the  change  in  her  manner, 
since  attaching  herself  to  the  church,  had  not  been 
altogether  agreeable  to  him.  Her  old  lightness  of 
spirit  had  departed,  and  her  feelings  seemed  all  the 
while  shadowed.  If  he  spoke  to  her  a  little  roughly, 
as  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  doing,  tears  would 
come  into  her  eyes. 

"  If  this  religion,"  said  he,  "  is  going  to  fill  my 
house  with  gloom,  if  sadness  is  to  sit  forever  on  the 
face  of  my  wife,  I  shall  do  my  best  to  banish  it  from 
our  dwelling." 

But  this  little  evidence  of  the  better  spirit  that 
was  at  work  in  the  heart  of  his  wife,  changed  ma- 


THE  TKIALS  OF  A  DAT.  155 

terially  the  aspect  of  the  case.  Before,  she  had 
repressed,  with  a  strong  hand,  all  strife  between 
her  children  ;  subduing  the  external  manifestation 
of  anger,  but  not  changing  the  evil  condition  of 
mind.  The  storm  of  her  passion  only  obliterated 
the  external  signs  of  theirs.  The  ill  nature,  the 
unkindness,  the  hate,  were  all  alive,  and  ever  gain 
ing  strength  under  the  unwise  repression.  Now, 
what  a  change  a  few  calm  sentences  had  pro 
duced  ! 

When  Mr.  Jenkins  came  down  at  breakfast- 
time,  and  looked  across  the  table  at  his  wife,  he 
saw  that  her  face  was  paler  than  usual. 

"Are  you  not  well,  Anna?"  he  inquired,  in  a 
tone  of  unusual  interest. 

She  smiled  back  upon  him  a  sudden  smile  that 
made  her  face  look  beautiful,  as  of  old,  in  his  eyes. 

"  Eddy  was  wakeful,  and  I  slept  but  poorly  last 
night,"  she  answered.  "But  I  feel  as  well  as 
usual,  and  better  than  when  I  got  up  this  morning." 
•  "  How  nicely  the  table  looks,"  said  Mr.  Jenkins, 
glancing  around,  with  a  pleased  manner.  "  Have 
you  got  a  new  girl?" 

"  I'm  the  new  girl,"  spoke  out  Mary,  too  much 
gratified  by  this  commendation  to  keep  silent. 


156  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"You?  Why  bless  my  heart!  Is  that-  so?" 
answered  the  father,  affecting  an  air  of  surprise. 

"  Yes ;  Mary  is  the  new  girl ;  and  you  don't 
know  how  handy  she  is — " 

"And  you've  got  a  new  nurse  too,  if  Fin  not  mis 
taken."  Mr.  Jenkins  glanced  at  Anna.  "]STow, 
that's  something  like,  my  little  dears,"  he  added ; 
"  and  Fm  more  pleased  to  think  you've  been  help 
ing  your  mother  this  morning,  than  if  I'd  found  a 
purse  of  gold." 

What  a  glow  of  pleasure  warmed  every  breast ! 
What  happy  smiles  sat  on  every  countenance. 

"  But,  come  Jane,"  added  Mr.  Jenkins,  "  pour 
out  my  coffee,  and  let  me  get  through  with  break 
fast.  You're  late  this  morning,  by  nearly  half  an 
hour.  I  felt  strongly  tempted  to  get  impatient  and 
scold ;  but  you  were  all  doing  your  best,  and  so 
cheerfully,  too,  that  I  hadn't  the  heart  to  be  ill- 
natured.  I  won't  promise  for  to-morrow  morning, 
however." 

"  You  mustn't  be  too  hard  on  me,  dear,"  Mrs. 
Jenkins  answered,  with  a  faint  smile,  and  a  voice, 
whose  pleading  softness  went  right  to  her  husband's 
heart.  "  Eddy  don't  sleep  very  well,  you  know, 
and  I'm  broken  of  a  good  many  hours'  rest  every 


THE  TRIALS   OF  A  DAT.  157 

night.  So,  if  I  get  sound  asleep  towards  morning, 
and  lie  a  little  too  late,  I  ought  to  be  forgiven. 
The  spirit  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak." 

Mr.  Jenkins  couldn't  just  stand  that.  It  kind  of 
choked  him. 

"  I  won't  scold  again,  if  you  lie  until  dinner 
time !"  He  answered,  with  sudden  feeling.  "  I'll 
get  up  myself,  and  with  Mary's  help,  cook  the 
breakfast  if  needed.  How  thoughtless  we  strong, 
hearty  men  are,  sometimes,"  he  added.  "We 
don't  consider  as  we  should,  the  broken  rest,  and 
shattered  nerves  of  our  wives.  And,  now  that  I 
think  of  it,"  he  went  on — "  it  does  seem  to  me, 
that  scolding  and  ill-nature  are  rather  out  of  place 
in  our  home.  There  is  a  better  way  for  us  to  get 
along,  I  am  sure.  You  taught  me  that,  Jane, 
this  morning ;  and  the  lesson,  I  think  will 
abide." 

"  Me  ?  How  ?  Where  ?"  Mrs.  Jenkins  looked 
across  the  table  half  in  wonder 

"  I  will  tell  you  another  time,"  he  replied,  as  his 
eyes  wandered  from  the  face  of  his  wife  to  Anna 
ind  Mary.  She  understood  him  then  ;  and  a  new 
hope  sprung  up  in  her  heart,  and  a  new  strength 
pervaded  her  spirit 


158  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

"If  a  single  effort  at  self-control  has  worked 
such  great  results  as  these,"  said  Mrs.  Jenkins  to 
herself,  "  what  may  I  not  hope  to  accomplish  in 
time  ?  God  help  me  to  overcome  the  selfish  in- 
clinings  of  my  heart !" 

Mr.  Jenkins  left  his  home  on  that  morning,  with 
a  new  set  of  thoughts  active  in  his  mind ;  and  a 
new  impression  of  his  wife's  character. 

"  If  religion  have  done  that,"  he  said,  speaking 
to  himself,  "  then  it  is  worth  something.  I've  never 
had  much  faith  in  this  singing  and  praying  ;  and 
never  fancied  these  solemn  faces.  "What  I  want  to 
see  are  reformed  men  and  women.  Religion  isn't 
worth  a  copper  if  it  doesn't  change  the  life  as  well 
as  the  heart." 

All  very  well  for  Mr.  Jenkins.  He  belonged  to 
a  class. 

The  next  trial  of  the  day  for  Mrs.  Jenkins  ap 
proached.  The  getting  of  Anna  and  Mary  off  to 
school  had  been  always  attended  with  trouble. 
Neither  of  them  liked  school  very  well ;  and  both 
were  in  the  habit  of  conjuring  up  every  difficulty 
in  their  power,  and  worrying  their  mother  until 
her  stock  of  patience  was  exhausted.  The  scene 
not  unfrequently  closed  with  a  passionate  outbreak 


THE   TRIALS   OF  A   DAT.  159 

on  the  mother's  part,  accompanied  by  blows,  when 
the  children  were  driven  forth  in  tears. 

Mrs.  Jenkins,  now  that  this  trial  was  near, 
began  to  experience  a  pressure  on  her  feelings. 
Her  little  girls  had  behaved  very  well,  so  far,  and 
been  a  great  help  to  her;  and,  in  consideration  of  this 
and  as  a  reward,  she  thought  for  a  moment,  of  let 
ting  them  stay  at  home  on  that  day.  But,  she  saw 
at  once,  the  error  and  weakness  of  this.  It  was 
merely  getting  around,  or  evading  a  duty,  not 
meeting  it  in  the  true  spirit.  So,  she  schooled  her 
own  heart  to  calmness,  and  when  the  time  came 
for  Anna  and  Mary  to  get  ready,  she  said,  in  a 
quiet,  firm  way,  yet  smiling  as  she  spoke  : 

"  What  next  ?    Time  is  passing  ?" 

Anna  and  Mary  looked  at  their  mother.  They 
understood  her ;  and  she  saw  in  their  manner,  that 
the  thought  of  school  was  an  unpleasant  one. 

"  I  haven't  seen  my  little  girls  as  happy  as  they 
have  been  this  morning  for  a  long  time,"  she 
said,  holding  their  eyes  in  her  own  steady  gaze. 
u  But  the  reason  is  plain.  The  proverb  says :  '  To 
be  good  is  to  be  happy.'  You  have  been  good — • 
that  is,  useful  to  your  mother  and  kind  to  one 
another;  and  so  happiness  has  flowed  into  your 


160  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

hearts  from  your  Father  in  heaven,  who  is  the 
source  of  all  true  happiness.  Continue  to  be  good 
— that  is  to  do  right,  and  the  Lord,  who  loves  you, 
will  fill  your  hearts  with  pleasure.  Now,  what  is 
your  next  right  action  ?" 

"  To  go  to  school,"  replied  Anna  with  prompt 
ness. 

"  Come !"  said  Mary,  catching  hold  of  her  sister's 
hand,  "  let  us  get  ready  in  a  minute,  and  not  give 
mother  a  bit  of  trouble.  I  know  where  all  my 
things  are." 

And  the  two  children  tripped  away  as  lightly  as 
if  they  were  about  making  ready  for  a  pleasure 
party  instead  of  school.  In  a  few  minutes,  they 
came  down,  playful  as  kittens,  and  after  kissing 
their  mother  and  the  baby,  went  laughing,  instead 
crying,  off  to  school. 

"  Isn't  this  wonderful !"  said  Mrs.  Jenkins,  as  the 
door  closed  on  the  children.  "  Oh,  the  power  of 
true  thoughts  and  right  purposes !  I  am  in  amaze 
ment  at  these  large  results  from  such  small  efforts. 
It  was  not  so  very  hard  to  control  myself;  not  so 
very  hard  to  speak  calmly,  and  firmly,  and  with 
love,  instead  of  anger,  in  my  tones.  Dear  children ! 
Has  not  your  mother  been  most  to  blame  for  your 


THE   TRIALS   OF   A   DAY.  161 

ill-tempers,  and  selfish  activities?  O  Lord" — 
and  heart  and  voice  went  upwards, — "  help  me  to 
conquer  myself — to  do  right  and  to  be  right.  Oh. 
be  strength  in  my  weakness.  Give  me  patience, 
long  suffering,  and  unselfish  love !" 

With  what  a  new  spirit,  with  what  an  elevation 
of  feeling,  with  what  cheerful  hope,  did  Mrs.  Jen 
kins  move  through  her  household  duties  during  the 
morning  of  that  day !  No  pain  nor  weakness  de 
pressed  her  body,  and  no  despondency  her  mind ; 
though  her  trials  were  far  greater  than  usual, 
arising  from  the  fact  that  she  had  no  domestic 
in  the  family,  she  was  able  to  meet  and  overcome 
the  many  difficulties  of  her  position  with  an  ease 
that  astonished  herself. 

Dinner  time  brought  home  her  hungry  little 
girls  and  their  father.  They  came  in  together; 
Mary  crying  out  as  she  entered  the  door — 

"  Oh,  dear  mother,  I'm  'most  starved !  Isn't 
dinner  ready?  No!  I  declare!"  Her  eyes  had 
reached  forward  into  the  little  dining-room,  and 
discovered  that  the  table  was  not  even  set.  "  It's 
too  bad !  And  I'm  so  hungry !  Can't  I  have  some 
bread  and  butter  ?" 

"  Why,  Jane !"  said  Mr.  Jenkins,  a  frown  dark- 


162  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

ening  his  face.  "  How  could  you  neglect  things 
so  ?  If  you  can't  have  meals  ready  in  time,  there 
is  no  use  in  coming  home  to  them.  My  business 
won't  wait." 

Now  this  was  breaking  in  upon  Mrs.  Jenkins 
rather  roughly,  and  the  sudden  jar  came  near 
throwing  her  spirit  from  its  even  balance.  But, 
from  a  quick  sense  of  fear,  she  rallied  herself,  and, 
with  a  smile  on  her  lips,  said  to  her  husband,  in  an 
even,  penetrating  voice — 

"  Don't  be  too  hard  on  me,  dear.  Remember,  I 
have  no  girl.  Be  a  little  patient,  and  I'll  promise 
to  have  a  good  dinner  on  the  table  in  ten  minutes 
by  the  watch.  I've  been  doing  my  best." 

"Not  a  word  more,  Jane,"  answered  Mr.  Jen 
kins.  "  1  stand  rebuked.  Ten  minutes  won't  sig 
nify,  here  nor  there.  I  know  you've  done  your 
best,  as  you  always  do." 

"  Can't  I  have  some  bread  and  butter  ?"  Mary 
jerked  at  her  mother's  dress,  and  cried  out  in  a 
very  cross  way. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  you  can  have,  my  child," 
said  Mrs.  Jenkins,  in  a  pleasant  tone  of  voice. 

"  What,  mother  ?"  Anna's  face  brightened  ** 
little. 


THE   TRIALS   OF   A   DAT.  163 

"The  pleasure  of  helping  me  as  you  did  this 
morning.  You  know  you  are  my  little  waiting- 
maid.  It  is  late,  and  father  is  in  a  hurry  for  his 
dinner.  Move  around  quickly,  and  get  the  table 
set,  while  I  see  to  dishing  up  the  meat  and  vege 
tables." 

Mary  sprang  away  to  the  dining-room,  and  soon 
the  air  was  musical  with  the  rattle  of  plates,  and 
the  jingle  of  knives,  forks,  and  spoons ;  while  Mrs. 
Jenkins,  with  lightened  feelings,  went  into  the 
kitchen  to  take  up  the  dinner.  In  less  than  ten 
minutes  the  dinner-bell  rung. 

"  Well,  that  is  quick  work !"  said  Mr.  Jenkins,  as 
he  sat  down  to  the  table.  "  There  must  have  been 
Borne  magic  in  the  case." 

He  looked  particularly  well  pleased. 

"  I'll  try  to  be  up  to  the  minute  to-morrow,"  an 
swered  Mrs.  Jenkins.  "  But  if  I  fail  a  little,  you 
must  all  help  me  by  your  patience.  It  does  me  a 
world  of  good.  It  is  not  from  willful  neglect  that 
I  am  behindhand  in  anything." 

Mrs.  Jenkins  did  not  mean  to  rebuke  her  hus- ' 
band ;  but,  what  she  then  said,  he  felt  as  a  reproof. 
'His  eyes  were  opened  to  a  juster  estimate  of  his 
wife,  to   a  higher  appreciation  of  her  character, 


164  STEPS   TOWAKDS   HEAVEN. 

and  to  his  own  spirit  of  selfish  exaction.  How  dif 
ferent  all  would  have  been  if,  instead  of  exercising 
Christian  patience,  Mrs.  Jenkins  had  permitted,  as 
she  had  often  done  before,  wounded  feelings  to 
blind,  and  passion  to  destroy,  her  self-control. 
And  she  had  her  reward  in  a  tranquil  spirit,  and 
in  a  humble  self  approval. 

The  evening  of  that  day,  which  opened  with 
such  evil  promise,  closed  peacefully  for  the  house 
hold  of  Mr.  Jenkins. 

"  How  did  you  manage  to  work  such  a  wonder 
ful  transformation  in  yourself,  in  the  children,  and 
even  in  your  husband,"  said  Mr.  Jenkins,  as  he 
leaned  towards  his  wife  across  the  little  sewing- 
table.  The  children  were  all  in  bed  and  asleep, 
and  they  sat  alone,  talking  of  the  day's  incidents, 
trials,  and  conquests.  "  It  seems  to  me  almost  like 
a  dream." 

"  Not  in  my  own  strength,  dear  husband  "  re 
plied  Mrs.  Jenkins,  her  voice  trembling,  and  her 
eyes  glistening  with  tears.  "I  never  felt  weaker, 
or  more  unfitted  for  the  day's  trials,  than  I  did  this 
morning.  I  had  lost  sleep  with  Eddy,  and  when  I 
awoke,  I  felt  so  weak  and  nervous  that  I  could 
scarcely  rise.  Before  I  had  dressed  myself,  a  head- 


THE   TRIALS   OF    A   DAT.  165 

ache  set  in.  Baby  screamed;  husband  scolded, 
Anna  and  Mary  quarrelled.  I  felt  that  the  trial 
was  beyond  my  strength — and  so  it  was.  In  my 
weakness  and  despair,  I  looked  up  and  prayed  for 
patience,  wisdom,  and  endurance ;  and  God  helped 
me  in  my  extremity.  He  gave  me  patience,  self- 
control,  and  wisdom,  for  right  action.  Of  myself, 
I  had  no  power  for  good  ;  in  Him,  I  have  overcome 
the  enemies  that  sought  to  destroy  my  peace." 

Mr.  Jenkins  let  his  eyes  fall  from  the  earnest  face 
of  his  wife,  and  for  some  moments  looked  down 
upon  the  floor. 

"  If  that  is  what  you  call  religion,  Jane,"  he  said, 
looking  up,  "  I  think  the  more  the  world  has  of  it 
the  better.  It  does  not  contain  a  single  element  of 
sadness ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  banishes  gloom,  and 
scatters  good  deeds  and  sunshine  all  around.  If  it 
has  carried  you,  cheerfully,  through  a  day  com 
menced  in  such  dark  promise,  what  a  blessed  life- 
companion  it  must  be !  I  understand  now  what 
religion  really  is ;  what  trust  in  the  Lord  is ;  what 
prayer  for  divine  strength  means." 

"  May  he  give  you  that  strength,  my  husband," 
said  Mrs.  Jenkins,  fervently.  "  Oh,  look  up  to 
Him,  and  he  will  aid  you  in  trial,  and  in  tempta- 


166  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

tion,  as  he  lias  aided  me.  Let  us  walk  together  in 
this  new  way.  Let  us  help  one  another." 

Mr.  Jenkins  gave  his  hand  to  his  wife,  and,  as 
he  felt  its  eager  clasp,  he  answered — 

"Teach  and  lead  me  by  your  sweet  example, 
Jane,  as  you  have  taught  me  to-day.  I  may  not 
be  a  very  rapid  scholar,  but  I  will  be  learning 
something  all  the  while,  if  you  will  but  look  past 
my  roughness  and  hardness,  which  is  more  on  the 
surface  than  in  the  heart,  and  still  keep  repeating 
your  lessons,  though  the  scholar  be  dull,  and,  at 
times,  rebellious.  You  shall  have  your  reward  in 
the  end." 

And  Mr.  Jenkins  was  right.  She  had  her  re 
ward.  Years  afterwards  she  would  look  back  and 
bless  the  trials  of  that  first  day  of  truly  Christian 
warfare.  Her  conquests  then  were  only  the  begin 
ning  of  a  series  of  conquests  over  the  evils  of  her 
nature.  Daily,  as  she  entered  into  her  duties,  and 
performed  them  from  a  principle  of  religion,  did 
she  gain  new  power,  and  rise  into  higher  states  of 
enjoyment.  The  circle  of  her  life  seemed  ever 
sweeping  in  ascending  spirals.  How  beautifully 
and  effectively,  did  the  Christian  wife  and  mother 
illustrate  the  doctrine  she  professed,  by  an  untiring 


THE   TRIALS   OF   A   DAY.  167 

devotion  of  herself  to  the  good  of  her  husband  and 
children!  From  them  she  had  honor  and  love. 
Best  of  all,  in  her  eyes,  was  their  daily  growth  into 
the  likeness  and  image  of  God,  through  self-denials, 
patience,  repression  of  evil,  and  good  deeds  done 
in  the  name  of  charity.  Yes,  she  had  her  reward, 
and  it  was  given  in  rich  abundance. 


368  STEPS   TOWAKDS   HEAVEN. 


XYI. 
AXGEL    VISITS. 

THEY  do  not  always  visit  us  in  beautiful  gar- 
ments,making  the  air  golden  with  their  sunny  smiles. 
Oftener,  they  come  in  sober-hued  vestments,  with 
lips  grief- curved,  and  eyes  heavy,  as  from  weeping. 
But,  come  to  us  when  and  how  they  will,  it  is  ever 
in  love.  Daily  they  are  about  our  paths,  though 
we  perceive  them  not  with  our  dull  bodily  senses ; 
nor  even  recognize  their  presence  by  the  spirit's 
finer  instincts — for,  "  of  the  earth  earthy,"  as  we  are, 
and  with  affections  clinging  to  the  earth,  we  have 
neither  eyes  nor  ears  for  the  inner  sights  and  inner 
voices  which  are  for  the  pure  in  heart.  Yes,  they 
are  about  our  daily  paths,  smoothing  and  making 
them  flowery  when  they  may ;  but  oftener  piling 
up  obstructions  and  making  them  rough  and 
thorny. 

"  Rough  and  thorny !     Piling  up  obstructions !" 


ANGEL    VISITS.  169 

we  hear  from  the  lips  of  some  life-weary  sufferer. 
"  Is  this  a  work  for  angels  ?" 

Beautiful  seemed  the  way  before  you,  in  the 
bright  morning  of  early  womanhood,  heart-sick  and 
life-weary  one !  And  as  your  eyes  went  far  on 
ward,  how  many  lovely  vistas  opened,  showing 
blessed  Arcadias  in  the  smiling  distance !  To  gain 
them  was,  you  felt,  to  gain  heaven ;  and  onward  you 
pressed  with  eager  footsteps.  You  did  not  gain 
them !  For  a  while,  the  path  was  even,  and  the 
fragrance  of  a  hundred  blossoms  delighted  your 
senses.  But  all  at  once  your  feet  were  wounded — 
there  were  sharp  obstructions  in  the  way;  then 
thick  clouds  and  darkness  were  before  you,  hiding 
the  lovely  Eden.  Still,  you  pressed  onward,  though 
the  way  was  rough,  and  the  sunny  vistas  opening 
to  the  land  of  promise,  were  hidden  from  your 
straining  vision.  Then  a  mountain  arose  suddenly, 
whose  rocky  steeps  you  could  not  climb.  Despair 
was  in  your  heart ;  and  in  the  bitterness  of  your 
disappointment  you  called  yourself  one  mocked  of 
God. 

It  was  not  so,  precious  immortal !  Not  so,  pil 
grim  to  a  better  land  than  the  Arcadia  of  your 
maiden  dreams !  At  the  very  foot  of  that  inacces- 

8 


170  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

sible  mountain,  a  narrow  path  became  visible ;  and 
though  it  looked  rough  and  had  no  green  margin, 
beautiful  with  flowers,  there  was  an  emotion  of 
thankfulness  in  your  heart  for  even  this  way  of 
escape :  for,  already  a  mortal  dread  had  seized 
upon  your  spirit.  With  hurrying  footsteps  you 
entered  this  new  way,  and  the  hope  that  it  would 
quickly  lead  around  the  mountain,  and  bring  the 
sunny  land  again  in  view,  repressed  the  fear  that 
else  had  been  paralyzing. 

It  was  the  hand  of  an  angel  which  led  you  into 
that  new  way,  and  kept  your  heart  from  fainting 
Narrow,  rough  and  flowerless  though  it  proved,  it 
was  a  better  way  than  that  along  which  you  were 
passing  with  such  buoyant  steps — for  it  bent  heaven 
ward.  And  think,  life-weary  one ! — do  you  not  feel 
that  you  are  nearer  heaven  now  than  when  the  sun 
of  this  world  shone  from  an  unclouded  sky  above 
the  path  of  pleasure  and  prosperity  ?  Think,  and 
answer  to  yourself  the  question. 

A  heart-stricken  mother  sat  grieving  for  the  loss 
of  her  youngest-born,  the  sweetest  and  loveliest  of 
her  precious  flock — grieving  and  refusing  to  be 
comforted.  There  had  been  loving  sympathy, 
gentle  remonstrance,  and  pious  teaching  from  the 


ANGEL  VISITS.  171 

lips  of  the  minister  who  had  a  year  before  touched 
the  forehead  of  her  babe  with  the  waters  of  bap 
tism  ;  but  all  availed  not — the  fountain  of  tears 
stayed  not  its  waters,  nor  was  the  murmuring  voice 
hushed  in  her  rebellious  spirit.  At  length,  one 
came  to  her  who  had  known  a  like  sorrow,  and 
whose  heart  had,  even  like  hers,  been  bowed  into 
the  very  dust.  She  took  into  her  own  soft  hand  the 
passive  hand  of  the  mourner,  which  gave  not  back 
a  sign.  A  little  while  she  held  it,  clasping  her 
fingers  in  a  gentle  pressure ;  then  in  a  voice  whose 
tender  modulations  went  vibrating  to  the  inmost  of 
her  spirit,  she  said : 

"  You  had  an  angel  visit  last  night." 

An  angel  visit !     What  did  the  words  signify  ? 

"  Only  a  year  has  passed  since  I  had  a  like  visit," 
continued  the  friend.  "I  did  not  recognize  the 
heavenly  messenger  when  she  came,  for  my  eyes 
were  too  full  of  tears  to  see  her  radiant  form.  She 
came  and  went,  bearing  on  her  bosom  as  she  passed 
upward  to  the  regions  of  eternal  sunshine,  the  spirit 
of  my  lovely  boy !" 

The  hand  of  the  mourner  answered  to  the  light 
pressure  of  that  in  which  it  lay.  That  night,  went 
on  the  comforter,  "  I  saw  in  a  dream — I  call  it  a 


172          STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

dream,  but  regard  it  as  a  revelation — my  translated 
one  among  the  blessed  in  the  upper  kingdom  of  our 
Father.  He  was  in  the  arms  of  the  angel-mother, 
whose  love  for  him  it  was  plain  to  see  was  wise  and 
tender,  surpassing  all  my  own  deep  affection,  as 
far  as  the  unselfish  love  of  an  angel  surpasses  the 
love  of  a  weak  and  erring  creature  of  earth. 

"  *  Grieve  no  more !'  said  the  heavenly  being,  aa 
she  came  to  me.  *  I  have  not  taken  this  innocent  one 
from  you  in  anger  or  cruelty,  but  in  love — love  for 
both  the  mother  and  child.  As  for  him,  he  is  safe 
in  his  celestial  home  for  ever,  and  is  and  will  be 
blessed  far  above  anything  you  could  ask — for  it 
hath  not  entered  into  the  heart  of  even  a  mother  to 
conceive  what  transcendent  delights  are  in  store  for 
those  who  are  born  into  heaven.  Is  it  not,  there 
fore,  better  for  your  child  ?  Were  I  to  say,  take 
him  again  into  the  cold,  dark  world  of  sorrow,  sin 
and  suffering,  would  you  bear  him  back?  No, 
grieving  mother,  no !  You  love  this  precious  one 
too  well.  But,  how  is  it  better  for  you  to  lose  the 
child  in  whom  your  heart  was  so  bound  up  ?  I  see 
the  question  on  your  lips,  and  answer, — That  is 
always  best  which  lifts  the  spirit  nearest  to  God. 
Is  it  not  so  ?  Think !  Not  with  a  heavenly,  but 


ANGEL   VISITS.  173 

with  an  earthly  and  selfish  aiiection,  did  you  love 
your  child,  and  such  an  affection  can  not  truly  bless 
either  you  or  your  babe.  It  is  now  in  heaven,  and 
as  your  heart  follows  it  there,  it  will  come  into 
heavenly  associations,  and  thus  be  filled  with  aspi 
rations  for  that  higher  life  which  descends  from 
and  bears  back  its  recipient  into  heaven.  Grieving 
one !  I  came  to  you  in  mercy ;  and  though  tears 
have  followed  my  visit,  they  are  falling  on  good 
seeds  planted  in  your  heart.' 

"Thus  spoke  to  me  that  angel-mother  of  my 
child,  and  ever  since,  her  words  have  been  my  stay 
and  comfort.  Such  an  angel  came  to  you  last 
night,  grieving  friend.  The  visit  was  in  love,  not 
in  anger.  Then  lift  your  eyes  upward,  and  no 
longer  permit  them  to  rest  on  the  gloomy  grave. 
The  spirit  of  your  child  has  already  arisen,  more 
beautiful  in  form,  and  is  now  with  the  angels  ap 
pointed  for  its  guardianship.  The  wiser  love  of  oui 
good  Father  hath  transplanted  a  flower  of  earth  to 
blossom  in  the  warmer  atmosphere  of  heaven.  Be 
thankful,  then,  dear  friend.  Oh,  be  thanful ! — but 
weep  not !" 

And  the  heart,  which  no  words  of  consolation  had 
been  able  to  'each,  felt  itself  swelling  with  a  deep 


174  STEPS   TOWARDS  HEAVES'. 

emotion/  and  lifting  itself  upwards  towards  the 
All-merciful. 

"  I  will  believe  that  it  was  an  angel  who  came 
here  last  night  and  bore  away  my  child,"  she  whis 
pered,  as  with  shut  eyes,  fringed  by  tear-gemmed 
lashes,  she  bowed  her  head  upon  the  bosom  of  her 
consoler.  "  Oh,  if  anything  can  soothe  the  anguish 
of  this  bereavement,  it  is  to  know  that  my  precious 
babe,  for  whom  I  have  cared  so  tenderly,  passed 
from  my  arms  to  those  of  an  angel ;  and  that  he 
was  thus  borne  safely  across  the  dark  valley  into 
which  I  looked  down  with  such  a  heart-shudder. 
I  bless  you  for  speaking  such  words  of  consola 
tion!" 

Not  alone  in  misfortune  or  bereavement  do  an 
gels  visit  us.  They  do  not  always  make  the  way 
rough,  nor  always  darken  the  fires  around  whick 
we  gather.  Daily  they  come  to  us ;  hourly  they 
seek  to  draw  nearer,  and  quicken  our  better  im 
pulses.  A  thousand  evils — soul-destroying  evils — 
are  warded  off  by  them,  even  though  we  are  un 
conscious  of  their  presence,  and,  it  may  be,  resist 
the  very  influences  by  which  such  priceless  benefits 
are  conferred. 

"  Ah !"  we  hear  it  said,  "  if  we  could  but  open 


ANGEL  VISITS.  175 

our  eyes  and  see ;  if  the  scales  that  obstruct  our 
inner  vision  could  be  removed  :  if  we  could  know 
our  celestial  visitors  when  they  come !" 

We  may  know  them,  and  we  may  perceive  their 
presence.  Whether  we  are  in  prosperity  or  in 
adversity,  in  joy  or  in  sorrow,  angel  visitors  are 
with  us  whenever  the  thought  goes  upward,  and 
the  heart  yearns  for  a  better  life.  Their  mission  to 
the  sons  of  men  is  to  draw  them  heavenward ;  and 
if  sorrow,  affliction,  or  adversity  is  needed  for  the 
accomplishment  of  this  great  end,  they  are  made 
subservient  in  the  good  work.  But  when,  in  their 
high  mission,  they  bow  a  thirsty  soul  to  the  bitter 
waters  of  Marah,  their  hands  hold  not  back  the 
healing  branch ;  and  a  song  of  rejoicing  is  soon 
heard  instead  of  lamentation.  Elim,  with  its  twelve 
wells  of  water  and  seventy  palm-trees,  is  just 
beyond. 

Happy  is  tnat  spirit  to  which  the  angels  come 
not  on  their  errands  of  mercy  in  vain ! 


176  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 


XVII. 
ALGERNON,  THE  MERCHANT. 

THE  day  closed,  and  Algernon,  the  merchant, 
turned  thoughtfully  from  his  counting-room,  and 
took  his  way  homeward.  Almost  without  inter 
mission,  since  morning,  had  he  been  absorbed  in 
his  money  schemes,  gathering  in  golden  sheaves  of 
wealth  from  the  harvest-fields  of  trade. 

"  Am  I  happier  for  all  this  ?"  he  said,  question 
ing  with  himself ;  "  does  the  larger  increase  add 
to  my  pleasure  ?  Do  houses  and  lands  bring  peace 
of  mind,  or  ships  upon  the  ocean  a  tranquil  spirit  ? 
Bather,  do  not  all  these  things  multiply  cares  ?  Is 
my  sleep  sounder  than  it  was  twenty  years  ago,  or 
my  heart  lighter  ?" 

Away  back  into  the  past  went  his  thoughts,  as 
the  last  sentence  was  uttered,  and  he  remembered 
the  time  when,  with  the  closing  of  day,  he  could 
dismiss  the  day's  business,  and  find  a  pure  delight 


ALGERNON  THE  MERCHANT          1T7 

in  the  humble  home  where  wife  and  children  wel 
comed  his  return  with  gladness.  Now  his  magnifi 
cent  dwelling  was  as  little  enjoyed  as  a  prisoner's 
cell ;  for  his  affections  were  not  there,  but  winging 
iheir  way,  with  his  thoughts,  afar  off,  to  distant 
seas  or  strange  lands,  or  hovering  about  amid 
brilliant  schemes,  golden  with  the  promise  of  untold 
wealth. 

Algernon  sighed  as  he  contrasted  days  gone  by 
with  the  present,  and  his  heart  acknowledged  that 
he  was  happier  then  than  now.  The  merchant  was 
in  a  softer  mood  than  usual ;  and  it  was  well  for 
the  half-starving  women,  whose  white  face  looked 
into  his  imploringly,  that  it  was  so.  She  had 
thrown  herself,  almost  desperately,  in  his  way,  just 
as  he  turned  from  the  crowded  thoroughfare  into  a 
less  frequented  street,  not  far  from  his  luxurious 
home,  and  with  this  appeal — 

"  If  you  have  children,  sir,  pity  mine !" 

"  What  of  your  children  ?"  asked  the  merchant, 
as  he  stood  still,  and  looked  into  the  woman's  pale, 
pleading  face,  down  upon  which  the  rays  of  the 
gas  lamp  fell,  and  showed  its  lines  of  sorrow  and 
suffering. 

"They  are  hungry,  and  I  have  no  food  for 
8* 


178  BTEP8   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

them ;  they  are  sick,  and  I  cannot  get  them  medi 
cine." 

"  Is  this  true  ?"  said  the  merchant,  half  in  doubt. 
Such  extremity  seemed  almost  impossible  to  him. 

"  Come  and  see  1  Oh,  sir,  come  and  see  !"  Hope, 
doubt,  anguish,  all  blended  in  that  mother's  voice. 

"  Where  is  your  home  ?"  asked  Algernon. 

"  Only  in  the  next  street,"  was  replied. 

"  I  will  go  with  you.    Lead  the  way." 

Hurrying  on  before  with  rapid  feet  went  the 
eager  woman ;  following,  with  a  quicker  move 
ment  than  usual,  came  the  merchant.  They  were 
soon  at  an  old  pile  of  buildings,  not  far  from  the 
place  of  meeting.  The  woman  entered,  and  Al 
gernon  followed.  The  sight  that  met  his  eye 
stirred  all  the  man  within  him,  and  awakened  his 
utmost  pity.  A  sick  child,  with  hollow  cheeks, 
waxen  face,  and  large,  glistening  eyes,  lay  upon  an 
old  quilt  on  the  floor;  another  wan-looking  child 
sat  crouching  in  the  chimney  corner,  trying  to 
warm  her  half-naked  body  by  the  almost  imper 
ceptible  heat  of  a  few  dying  coals ;  while  a  third, 
not  over  six  years  of  age,  stood  on  the  other  side 
of  the  fireplace,  mumbling  at  a  bone  from  which  it 
was  impossible  to  extract  nutrition. 


ALGERNON  THE  MERCHANT.         179 

"  It  is  even  so,"  said  the  merchant,  as  he  glanced 
in  painful  surprise  about  the  room.  Then  he  gave 
the  woman  money,  and  told  her  to  go  quickly  for 
food  to  nourish  her  children,  and  fuel  to  warm 
them.  Nor  did  humanity  end  its  good  work  here. 
He  went  to  a  store  in  the  neighborhood,  and  pur 
chased  beds  and  bed  clothing  for  the  destitute 
family,  and  saw  these  comforts  conveyed  to  the 
room  they  occupied,  and  the  children,  after  being 
warmed  and  fed,  laid  in  them  with  their  faces  full 
of  wonder  and  gladness. 

In  a  single  half-hour  Algernon,  the  merchant 
had  changed  the  cold,  desolate  home  of  a  poor 
widow  into  what  to  her  and  her  children  was  now 
a  Paradise  of  comfort.  There  was  a  large  glowing 
fire  upon  the  hearth,  making  the  air  of  the  room 
rosy  with  light,  and  genial  with  warmth.  Added 
to  a  few  broken  chairs  and  an  old  table,  which 
constituted  the  only  furniture  in  the  apartment, 
were  two  plain  bedsteads,  with  beds  and  warm 
clothing  laid  over  them,  giving  their  promise  of 
rest  and  comfort  in  the  long  cold  nights.  Flour, 
meal,  meat,  bread,  sufficient  to  supply  the  little 
family  for  weeks,  were  piled  up  in  one  corner,  and 
the  mother  crumpled  tightly  in  her  hands  a  slip  of 


180  STEPS  rcmABDS  HEAVEN. 

paper  containing  an  order  for  fuel  enough  to  last 
the  winter  through. 

"  May  He  who  pities  the  widow  and  the  father 
less  be  better  to  you  than  this,  even  a  thousand 
fold  1"  said  the  woman,  as  Algernon  was  leaving. 
Her  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  but  the  heart's  warm 
glow  of  thankfulness  was  on  her  face  and  in  her 
voice.  "  And  may  the  memory  of  this  good  deed 
go  with  you  as  a  blessing  through  life  !" 

An  hour  later,  and  the  merchant  sat  alone  in  one 
of  the  luxurious  apartments  of  his  palace-home.  A 
book  lay  on  the  table  beside  him,  and  his  hand 
rested  upon  an  open  page.  He  had  been  reading, 
and  this  sentiment  had  arrested  his  attention,  and 
given  his  thoughts  a  new  direction — "  "We  only 
possess  what  we  have  bestowed."  At  first  the 
strangely-sounding  apothegm  struck  him  as  a  par 
adox. 

"  Possess  only  what  we  have  bestowed !"  said  he, 
talking  with  himself.  "  How  can  I  possess  what  I 
have  given  to  another  ?  The  thing  is  absurd.  And 
yet  this  writer  is  not  in  the  habit  of  uttering  absurd 
things.  What  does  he  mean  ?" 

Algernon  turned  to  the  book  again  and  read  on. 
•'  Only  what  we  enjoy  do  we  really  possess."  He 


ALGERNON  THE  MERCHANT.         181 

lifted  his  eyes  from  the  page  again,  and  mused  on 
this  other  proposition. 

"  There  is  truth  somewhere  here — a  newer  and 
higher  truth  than  my  thought  has  yet  apprehend 
ed,"  Algernon  talked  on  again  with  himself.  "  I 
have  acquired  great  possessions — are  they  enjoyed? 
Am  I  happier  now  than  when  my  wealth  could  be 
told  in  half  the  figures  it  now  takes  to  record  the 
sum  ?  I  have  lands,  houses,  ships,  gold,  merchan 
dise — do  I  really  possess  them — that  is,  in  this 
sense  of  enjoyment  ?  Do  they  not,  in  fact,  weigh 
heavier  upon  my  spirit  with  each  new  accumula 
tion,  making  possession  but  a  mockery  ?" 

From  ships,  and  merchandise,  houses  and  lands, 
the  thought  of  Algernon  turned  to  the  widow  and 
her  children,  relieved  from  suffering  under  the  sud 
den  activity  of  an  impulsive  benevolence. 

Instantly  a  glow  of  pleasure  warmed  his  heart, 
and  a  thrill  of  delight  went  trembling  to  the  very 
centre  of  his  being.  Thirty  dollars  had  this  good 
deed  cost  him  in  money ;  and  already  he  was  in 
the  possession  of  higher  enjoyments  therefrom  than 
all  his  day's  large  accumulations  had  given. 

"This  I  possess  1"  he  said,  with  rising  enthusi 
asm.  "This  I  have  for  all  time,  and  for  all  eternity, 


182  6TEP8  TOWAEDB  HEAVEN. 

a  source  of  perennial  pleasure.  Moth  cannot  cor 
rupt  it,  fire  cannot  burn  it,  thieves  cannot  break 
through  and  steal  it  away.  I  can  lay  me  down  in 
the  grave,  and  yet  not  lose  my  hold  upon  it.  Is 
not  this  possession  in  its  sublimest  sense  I" 

Then  the  thoughts  of  Algernon  went  back  upon 
his  life,  turning  the  pages  of  memory,  and  search 
ing  for  the  good  deeds  he  had  done.  They  were 
"  few  and  far  between,"  but  around  each  was  a 
halo  that  illumined  the  whole  page.  Side  by 
side  with  the  good  deeds  were  recorded  the  gains 
of  the  merchant ;  but  always  some  other  memory 
shadowed  these  records  of  gain,  and  robbed  them 
blessing. 

"These  —  these,"  said  the  merchant,  as  his 
thoughts  returned  to  the  present,  "  are  my  only 
real  possessions.  And  yet  how  few  they  are — how 
poor  I  am!  Algernon,  the  rich  merchant,  has 
made  small  accumulations,  indeed!  But,  thanks 
to  the  Teacher,  he  has  found  the  way  that  leads  to 
another  El  Dorado." 


ENEMIES.  183 


XVIII. 
ENEMIES. 

*  I  know  whose  work  that  is,"  said  Mrs.  Edwards. 
"  I  can  trace  her  hand  in  every  part  of  it."  The 
speaker's  brow  grew  dark,  and  her  eyes  flashed 
with  anger.  "  She's  bound  to  do  me  all  the  harm 
she  can ;  but  I  will  be  even  with  her." 

"  Why  should  Mrs.  Grant  seek  to  injure  you  3" 
inquired  the  lady  to  whom  the  above  remark  was 
addressed. 

"  Because  she  is  an  enemy." 

"  An  enemy  ?" 

"  Yes,  an  enemy.  And  she  is  not  the  only  one  I 
have." 

"Why  should  you  have  enemies,  Mrs.  Edwards?" 
asked  the  lady. 

"  Why  does  any  one  have  enemies  ?  Let  a  man 
go  straight  forward  through  the  world — indepen 
dent,  self-reliant,  yielding  to  none,  humoring  none 


184  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

— and,  my  word  for  it,  he  will  find  himself  encom 
passed  with  a  cloud  of  enemies.  People  never  for 
give  those  who  are  indifferent  to  them." 

"  Indifferent !  What  do  you  mean  by  indiffer 
ent?  Let  me  understand  you  clearly,  Mrs.  Ed 
wards." 

"  I  make  my  own  world,"  was  answered ;  "  or,  at 
least,  make  it  up  of  my  own,  and  leave  my  neigh 
bors  to  do  the  same.  I  concern  myself  only  about 
my  own  things,  and  never  give  encouragement  to 
meddlers,  of  whom  there  are  a  great  abundance. 
Out  of  every  three  persons  you  meet,  two  will  be 
found  over  inquisitive  in  regard  to  your  affairs.  I 
uever  gratify  them." 

"Why?"  was  the  quiet  inquiry. 

"  Because  it  is  none  of  their  business.  As,  for 
instance,  there  is  Mrs.  Lewis.  If  I  buy  a  new 
dress,  a  piece  of  lace,  or  linen,  or  make  any  addi 
tion  to  my  wardrobe  that  she  happens  to  discover, 
straightway  leaps  out  a  question  as  to  the  price. 
But  she  never  gets  anything  out  of  me." 

"  How  do  you  manage,  in  such  cases,  so  as  not  to 
give  offence  ?" 

"  Sometimes  I  evade  the  question ;  sometimes  I 
mislead  by  giving  a  price  higher  or  lower  than  waa 


ENEMIES.  18i) 

actually  paid ;  and  sometimes  I  deal  in  a  little  sar 
casm,  that  may  be  taken  or  not,  as  the  person 
chooses.  But  nothing  is  ever  learned  of  my  affairs. 
What  I  pay  for  goods,  and  where  I  buy  them,  is 
my  own  affair  altogether." 

"  And  your  neighbors  too,  I  think,  if  the  know 
ledge  is  of  service  to  them,  and  no  loss  to  you," 
said  the  lady  with  whom  Mrs.  Edwards  was  con 
versing. 

"  I  don't  see  it  so,"  was  firmly  answered.  "  Let 
people  do  their  own  shopping,  and  find  the  cheap 
places  and  choice  patterns  for  themselves.  I'm  not 
disposed  to  gain  knowledge  for  their  advantage." 

"  Our  candle  burns  none  the  dimmer  for  the 
light  it  gives  to  the  candle  of  another." 

"Let  people  strike  their  own  fires,  say  I,"  re 
turned  Mrs.  Edwards.  "I  have  enough  to  do  to 
take  care  of  my  own.  This  running  about  to  light 
the  candles  of  people  who  are  too  idle  or  indif 
ferent  to  keep  their  own  a-blaze,  doesn't  suit  my 
genius.  I'm  not  one  of  the  over-charitable  kind. 
Mind  your  own  business  is  my  life-precept." 

"  There  need  be  no  running  about  to  light  other 
people's  candles,"  said  the  lady.  "  But  it  should 
give  us  pleasure  to  communicate,  when  a  person 


186          BTEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

asks  to  profit  by  onr  skill,  knowledge,  or  expe 
rience,  if  the  information  may  be  given  without 
injury  to  ourselves." 

"  It  doesn't  give  me  any  pleasure,"  replied  Mrs. 
Edwards,  with  an  expression  in  her  tone  and  coun 
tenance  that  repelled  her  acquaintance,  who  re 
membered  more  than  one  instance  in  which  she 
had  herself  very  innocently  asked  questions  that 
were  answered  with  evasion 

"  Perhaps,"  she  ventured  to  remark,  "  if  you  were 
to  try  the  experiment  a  few  times,  you  would  find 
a  higher  pleasure  in  it  than  you  imagine." 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  make  it,  whatever.  My  own 
way  just  suits  me.  I  am  neither  debtor  nor  creditor 
to  the  world.  "We  stand  at  quits." 

"  Indeed !  Then  I  don't  wonder  that  you  have 
enemies,  and  they  of  the  worst  kind ;  having  power 
to  do  you  harm." 

"  What  harm  ?"  The  lady's  manner  struck  Mrs. 
Edwards  as  involving  some  deeper  meaning  than 
was  apparent  on  the  surface. 

"  Harm  to  your  soul,"  was  answered,  in  a  serious 
tone  of  voice. 

"  Oh !"    Mrs.  Edwards  slightly  tossed  her  head. 

"  Our  real  enemies,"  said  the  lady,  "  are  within 


ENEMIES.  187 

us.  Those  who  stand  upon  the  outside — men  and 
women  who,  from  evil  purpose,  seek  to  do  us  harm 
— can  only  shatter  the  external  a  little,  but  have 
no  power  over  the  real  man.  They  cannot  hurt  a 
hair  of  our  head.  Selfish  feelings  alone  are  our 
real  enemies,  for  they  hurt  the  soul ;  marring  its 
beauty,  exhausting  its  strength,  deforming  its 
limbs,  and  changing  it  from  the  image  of  God  into 
a  monster.  "We  cannot  live  the  life  of  heaven  here, 
Mrs.  Edwards,  upon  your  exclusive  principle — par 
don  my  freedom  of  speech.  God  placed  us  here, 
that  we  might  ascend  to  heaven  through  the  way 
of  good  deeds,  having  their  inspiration  in  a  loving 
spirit.  If  you  refuse  to  let  another's  candle  be 
lighted  at  yours — selfishly  refuse — the  light  of 
God's  love  will  go  out  in  your  soul,  and  leave  you 
in  the  darkness  of  eternal  night." 

The  lady  arose,  and  moved  a  step  away  from 
Mrs.  Edwards,  not  doubting  that  she  had  given 
offence,  and  half  regretting  that  she  had  been 
betrayed  into  such  plainness  of  speech.  But  the 
boldness  of  her  positions,  the  almost  solemn  man 
ner  in  which  she  had  spoken,  and,  withal,  her 
social  standing  and  estimable  character — all  had  the 
effect  to  startle,  rather  than  offend  Mrs.  Edwards. 


188  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  You  have  a  strange  way  of  talking,"  said  the 
latter,  rising  at  the  same  time,  and  looking  steadily, 
but  without  sign  of  feeling,  at  her  free-spoken 
monitor. 

"  I  have  given  utterance  only  to  words  of  truth, 
and  they  have  no  limited  or  merely  individual  ap 
plication,  but  involve  the  laws  of  heavenly  life," 
was  calmly  answered.  "  As  I  have  not  meant  to 
offend,  I  trust  you  will  not  take  offence.  I  have 
spoken  to  do  you  good,  not  evil — as  a  friend,  and  not 
as  an  enemy." 

"I  am  not  quite  so  bad,"  said  Mrs.  Edwards, 
with  signs  of  feeling,  "  as  my  words  make  me  out. 
I  talk  a  little  at  random,  and  perhaps  a  little  in 
earnest,  sometimes.  But  I  thank  you  for  the  truth, 
and  honor  you  for  womanly  candor.  The  enemies 
you  have  pointed  out,  I  will  watch,  lest,  in  an  un 
guarded  moment,  they  do  me  some  fatal  injury." 

"  None  others  can  do  us  real  harm,"  was  gently 
answered.  "Heaven  guards  us  from  all  outside 
enemies,  or  gives  us  strength  to  overcome  their 
assaults.  Only  the  secret  foes,  lurking  in  our  own 
breasts,  can  wound  us  in  vital  places." 


DUTY   AND   KINDNESS  189 


XIX. 
DUTY  AND  KINDNESS. 

THERE  was  an  angry  frown  on  the  countenance 
of  Deacon  Jonas  Browning.  There  were  tears  on 
on  the  sad  face  of  his  wife. 

"  He  shall  be  sent  to  sea !"  said  Deacon  Brown 
ing,  sternly. 

There  was  a  pleading  look  in  the  eyes  of  Mrs. 
Browning,  as  she  lifted  them  to  the  iron  face  of  her 
husband.  But  no  words  passed  her  lips. 

"  He  shall  be  sent  to  sea !    It  is  my  last  hope." 

"  Philip  is  very  young,  Jonas,"  said  Mrs.  Brown 
ing. 

"  Not  too  young  for  evil,  and,  therefore,  not  too 
young  for  the  discipline  needed  to  eradicate  evil. 
He  shall  go  to  sea !  Captain  Ellis  sails  in  the  Fanny 
"Williams  on  next  Monday.  I  will  call  upon  him 
this  very  day." 

"  Isn't  the  Fanny  Williams  a  whaler  ?"    The  lips 


190  STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

of  Mrs.  Browning  quivered,  and  her  voice  had  a 
choking  sound. 

"  Yes,"  was  firmly  answered. 

"  I  wouldn't  send  him  away  in  a  whaler,  Jonas. 
Remember — he  is  very  young,  not  thirteen  until 
next  April." 

"  Young  or  old,  Mary,  he's  got  to  go,"  said  the 
stern  deacon,  who  was  a  believer  in  the  gospel  of 
law.  He  was  no  weak  advocate  of  moral  suasion, 
as  it  is  familiarly  termed.  He  went  in  for  law,  and 
was  a  strict  constructionist.  Implicit  obedience 
was  the  statute  for  home,  and  all  deviations  there 
from  met  the  never  withheld  penalty. 

Mrs.  Browning  entered  into  no  argument  with 
her  husband,  for  she  knew  that  would  be  useless. 
She  had  never  succeeded  in  changing  his  purpose 
by  argument  in  her  life.  And  so  she  bent  her  eyes 
meekly  to  the  floor  again,  while  the  tears  crept 
over  her  face,  and  fell  in  large  bright  drops  upon 
the  carpet.  Deacon  Browning  saw  the  tears,  but 
they  did  not  move  him.  He  was  tear-proof. 

Philip,  the  offending  member  of  the  Browning 
family,  was  a  bright,  active,  restless  boy,  who,  from 
the  start,  had  been  a  rebel  against  unreasonable 
authority,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  not  unfre- 


DUTY   AND   KINDNESS.  191 

quently  against  authority  both  just  and  reasonable. 
Punishment  had  only  hardened  him;  increasing, 
instead  of  diminishing,  his  power  of  endurance. 
The  particular  offence  for  which  he  was  now  in 
disgrace,  was,  it  must  be  owned,  rather  a  serious 
one.  He  had,  in  company  with  three  other  boys  of 
his  age,  known  as  the  greatest  reprobates  in  the 
village,  rifled  a  choice  plum  tree,  belonging  to  a 
neighbor,  of  all  the  fruit  it  contained,  and  then 
killed  a  favorite  dog,  which,  happening  to  discover 
them  at  their  wicked  work,  attempted  to  drive 
them  from  the  garden.  The  neighbor  had  com 
plained  to  Deacon  Browning,  accompanying  his 
complaint  with  a  threat  to  have  Philip  arrested  foi 
stealing. 

"  If  you  don't  do  something  with  that  boy  of 
yours,"  he  added  with  considerable  feeling,  "  he'll 
end  his  days  in  the  State  Prison,  or  on  the  gallows." 

Hard  words  were  these  for  the  ears  of  Deacon 
Browning,  the  rigidly  righteous !  Hard  words,  and 
with  a  prophetic  conviction  in  them.  He  had  not 
a  very  creative  imagination,  but  in  this  instance 
the  prediction  of  his  angry  neighbor  conjured  up 
in  his  mind  the  image  of  a  prison  and  a  gallows, 
causing  a  shudder  to  pass  along  his  nerves,  and  the 


192  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

cold  perspiration  to  start  upon  his  forehead.  From 
that  moment  the  resolution  of  Deacon  Browning 
was  taken. 

The  boy  was  on  the  brink  of  ruin,  and  must  be 
saved  at  all  hazards.  As  to  the  means  of  doing 
this,  it  never  entered  into  the  heart  of  Deacon 
Browning  to  conceive  of  any  other  than  such  as 
involved  harsh  discipline.  The  Canaanite  was  in 
the  land  and  must  be  driven  out  with  fire  and 
sword.  With  him  the  word  duty  had  a  stern  sig 
nificance.  He  had  always  tried  to  do  his  duty, 
moving  steadily  onward  in  the  path  of  life,  and 
crushing  down  all  vanities  and  evils  that  sprang 
up  by  the  way,  under  a  heel  shod  with  iron. 

"  He  shall  be  sent  to  sea !"  That  was  the  last 
desperate  remedy.  In  his  mind,  as  in  the  minds  of 
many  like  him,  some  years  ago,  a  ship  was  the 
great  school  of  reform ;  and  when  a  boy  was 
deemed  incorrigible,  he  was  sent  off  to  sea,  usually 
to  have  his  evil  inclinations  hardened  into  perma 
nent  qualities. 

When  Deacon  Browning  met  his  son  Philip, 
after  receiving  intelligence  of  his  great  offence,  i^ 
was  with  a  stern,  angry  repulsion.  He  did  not  see 
the  look  of  appeal,  the  sign  of  repentance,  the  plea 


DUTY    AND   KINDNESS.  193 

for  mercy,  that  was  in  his  tearful  eyes.  A  single 
word  of  kindness  would  have  broken  up  the  great 
deep  of  the  boy's  heart,  and  impelled  by  the 
warmer  impulses  inherited  from  his  mother,  he 
would  have  flung  himself,  weeping,  into  his  father's 
arms.  But  Deacon  Browning  had  separated  duty 
from  kindness.  The  one  was  a  stern  corrector  of 
evil,  the  other  a  smiling  approver  of  good. 

From  his  home  to  the  wharf,  where  the  Fanny 
"Williams  lay,  all  equipped  for  sea,  Deacon  Brown 
ing  bent  his  steps.  Captain  Ellis,  a  rough,  hard 
man,  was  on  board.  After  listening  to  the  father's 
Btory  and  request,  he  said,  bluntly — 

"  If  you  put  your  boy  on  board  the  Fanny  "Wil 
liams,  he'll  have  to  bend  or  break,  that's  certain. 
Take  my  advice;  and  give  the  matter  a  second 
thought.  He'll  have  a  dog's  life  of  it  in  a  whaler. 
It's  my  opinion  that  your  lad  hasn't  stuff  enough 
in  him  for  this  experiment." 

"  I'll  risk  it,"  replied  the  Deacon.  "  He's  got  too 
much  stuff  in  him  to  stay  at  home,  that's  the  trou 
ble.  The  bend  or  break  system  is  the  only  one  in 
which  I  have  any  faith." 

"  As  you  like,  Deacon.  I  want  another  boy,  and 
yours  will  answer,  I  guess." 

9 


194:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  When  do  you  sail  ?"  was  inquired. 

"  On  Monday." 

"  Yery  well.  I'll  bring  the  boy  down  to-morrow." 

The  thing  was  settled  ;  the  Deacon  did  not  feel 
altogether  comfortable  in  mind.  Philip  was  young 
for  such  an  experiment,  as  the  mother  had  urged. 
And  now  very  opportunely,  a  leaf  in  the  book  of 
his  memory  was  turned,  on  which  was  written  the 
story  of  a  poor  boy's  wrongs  and  sufferings  at  sea. 
Many  years  before,  his  heart  had  grown  sick  over 
the  record.  He  tried  to  look  away  from  the  page, 
but  could  not.  It  seemed  to  hold  his  eye  by  a 
kind  of  fascination. 

Still  he  did  not  relent.  Duty  required  him  to 
go  steadily  forward  and  execute  his  purpose.  There 
was  no  other  hope  for  the  boy. 

"  Philip  !"  It  was  thus  that  he  announced  his 
determination.  "  I  am  going  to  send  you  to  sea 
with  Captain  Ellis.  It's  my  last  hope.  Steadily 
bent,  as  you  are,  on  evil,  I  can  no  longer  suffer  you 
to  remain  at  home.  The  boy  who  begins  with 
robbing  his  neighbor's  garden,  is  in  great  danger 
of  ending  his  career  upon  the  gallows.  To  save 
you,  if  possible,  from  a  fate  like  this,  I  now  send 
you  to  sea." 


DUTY    AND   KINDNESS.  195 

Very  sternly,  very  harshly,  almost  angrily,  was 
this  said.  Not  the  smallest  impression  did  it  seem 
to  make  upon  the  bo}> ,  who  stood  with  his  eyes  cast 
down,  an  image  of  sti  bborn  self-will  and  persistent 
rebellion. 

With  still  sharper  denunciation  did  the  father 
speak,  striving  in  this  way  to  shock  the  feelings  of 
his  child,  and  extort  signs  of  penitence.  But  it 
was  the  hammer  and  the  anvil — blow  and  rebound. 

Yery  different  were  the  mother's  efforts  with  the 
child.  Tearfully  she  pleaded  with  him — earnestly 
she  besought  him  to  ask  his  father's  forgiveness  for 
the  evil  he  had  done.  But  Philip  said — 

"  No,  mother.  I  would  rather  go  to  sea.  Father 
don't  love  me — he  don't  care  for  me.  He  hates 
me,  I  believe." 

"  Philip !  Philip !  Don't  speak  in  that  way  of 
your  father.  He  does  love  you ;  and  it  is  only  for 
your  good  that  he  is  going  to  send  you  to  sea.  Oh, 
how  could  you  do  so  wicked  a  thing  ?" 

Tears  were  in  the  mother's  eyes.  But  the  boy 
had  something  of  the  father's  stern  spirit  in  him, 
and  showed  no  weakness. 

"  It  isn't  any  worse  than  he  did  when  he  was  a 
boy,"  was  his  answer. 


196  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"Philip!" 

"  Well,  it  isn't ;  for  I  heard  Mr.  Wright  tell  Mr. 
Freeman  that  father  and  he  robbed  orchards  and 
hens'  nests ;  and  did  worse  than  that,  when  they 
were  boys  1" 

Poor  Mrs.  Browning  was  silent.  Well  did  she 
remember  how  wild  a  boy  Jonas  Browning  was ; 
and  how,  when  she  was  a  little  girl,  she  had  heard 
all  manner  of  evil  laid  to  his  charge. 

Yery  unexpectedly — at  least  to  Mr.  Browning — 
the  minister  called  in  on  the  evening  of  that 
troubled  day.  After  some  general  conversation 
with  the  family,  he  asked  to  have  a  few  words 
with  the  deacon  alone. 

"  Is  it  true,  Mr.  Browning,"  he  said,  after  they 
had  retired  to  an  adjoining  room,  "  that  you  are 
going  to  send  Philip  to  sea?" 

"  Too  true,"  replied  the  father,  soberly.  "  It  is 
my  last  hope.  From  the  beginning  that  boy  has 
been  a  rebel  against  just  authority  ;  and  though  I 
have  never  relaxed  discipline,  through  the  weak 
ness  of  natural  feelings,  yet  resistance  has  grown 
with  his  growth  and  strengthened  with  his  strength, 
until  duty  requires  me  to  use  a  desperate  remedy 
for  a  desperate  disease.  It  is  a  painful  trial ;  but 


DUTY   AND   KINDNESS.  197 

the  path  of  duty  is  the  only  path  of  safety.  What 
we  see  to  be  right,  we  must  execute  with  unflinch 
ing  courage.  I  cannot  look  back  and  accuse  myself 
of  any  neglect  of  duty  towards  this  boy,  through 
weakness  of  the  flesh.  From  the  beginning,  1 
have  made  obedience  the  law  of  my  household, 
and  suffered  no  deviation  therefrom  to  go  unpun 
ished." 

"  Duty,"  said  the  minister,  "  has  a  twin  sister." 

He  spoke  in  a  changed  voice,  and  with  a  manner 
that  arrested  the  attention  of  Deacon  Browning, 
who  looked  at  him  with  a  glance  of  inquiry. 

"  She  is  as  lovely  and  gentle,  as  he  is  hard  and 
unyielding." 

The  deacon  still  looked  curious. 

"  When  the  twin  sister  of  duty  is  away  from  his 
side,  he  loses  more  than  half  of  his  influence ;  but, 
in  her  beautiful  presence,  he  gains  a  dignity  and 
power  that  make  his  precepts  laws  of  life  to  all 
who  hear  them.  The  stubborn  heart  melts,  the 
iron  will  is  subdued ;  the  spirit  of  evil  shrinks 
away  from  the  human  soul." 

There  was  a  pause. 

"  The  name  of  that  twin  sister  is  Kindness." 

The  eyes  of  Deacon  Browning  fell  away  fron 


198  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

the  minister's  countenance,  and  drooped  until  they 
rested  upon  the  floor.  Conviction  flashed  upon  his 
heart.  He  had  always  been  stern  in  executing  the 
law — but  never  kind  ? 

"Has  that  beautiful  twin  sister  stood  ever  by 
the  side  of  Duty  ? — has  love  been  in  the  law,  Dea 
con  Browning  ?" 

Side  by  side  with  the  minister  stood  Duty  and 
Kindness — the  firm,  unshrinking  brother,  and  the 
mild,  loving  sister — and  so  his  word  had  power  to 
reach  the  deacon's  heart,  without  giving  offence  to 
pride. 

"  Kindness  is  weak,  yielding,  and  indulgent, 
and  forgives  when  punishment  is  the  only  hope 
of  salvation,"  said  Deacon  Browning,  a  little  re 
covering  himself  from  the  first  emotions  of  self- 
condemnation. 

"  Only  when  she  strays  from  the  side  of  Duty," 
replied  the  minister.  uDuty  and  Kindness  must 
always  act  together." 

Much  more,  and  to  the  same  purpose,  was  urged 
by  the  minister,  who  made  only  a  brief  visit,  and 
then  withdrew,  that  his  admonitions  might  work 
the  effect  desired. 

When  Deacon  Browning  came  in  from  the  front 


DUTY   AND   KINDNESS.  199 

door  of  Ms  house,  after  parting  with  the  minister, 
he  drew  a  chair  up  to  the  table  in  the  family 
sitting-room,  and,  almost  involuntarily,  opened  the 
large  family  Bible.  His  feelings  were  much  soft 
ened  towards  his  boy,  who,  with  his  head  bowed 
upon  his  breast,  sat  a  little  apart  from  his  mother. 
The  attitude  was  not  so  much  indicative  of  stub 
born  self-will,  as  suffering.  Deacon  Browning 
thought  he  would  read  a  chapter  aloud,  and  so 
drew  the  holy  book  closer,  and  bent  his  face  down 
over  it.  Mrs.  Browning,  observing  the  movement, 
waited  for  him  to  begin.  The  deacon  cleared  his 
throat  twice.  But  his  voice  did  not  take  up  the 
words  that  were  in  his  eyes  and  in  his  heart.  How 
could  they? 

"  As  a  father  pitieth  his  children  " 

Had  there  been  divine  pity  in  the  heart  of  Dea 
con  Browning  for  his  rebellious  and  unhappy  boy? 
Nay — had  there  not  been  wrath,  instead  ? 

"As  a  father  pitieth  his  children" 

From  a  hundred  places  in  the  mind  of  Deacon 
Browning  there  seemed  to  come  an  echo  of  these 
words,  and  they  had  a  meaning  in  them  never  per 
ceived  before.  He  closed  the  book,  and  remained 
in  deep  thought  for  many  minutes ;  and  not  only 


200  BTEP8   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

in  deep  thought,  but  in  a  stern  conflict  with  him 
self.  Kindness  was  striving  to  gain  her  place  by 
the  side  of  Duty;  and  cold,  hard,  imperious  Duty, 
who  had  so  long  ruled  without  a  rival  in  the  mind 
of  Deacon  Browning,  kept  all  the  while  averting 
his  countenance  from  that  of  his  twin  sister,  who 
had  been  so  long  an  exiled  wanderer.  At  last  she 
was  successful.  The  stern  brother  yielded,  and 
clasped  to  his  bosom  the  sister  who  sought  his 
love. 

From  that  instant  new  thoughts,  new  views,  new 
purposes  ruled  in  the  mind  of  Deacon  Browning. 
The  discipline  of  a  whaler  was  too  hard  and  cruel 
for  his  boy,  young  in  years,  and  by  no  means  as 
hardened  in  iniquity  as  he  had  permitted  himself 
to  imagine.  A  cold  shiver  ran  along  his  nerves  at 
the  bare  thought  of  doing  what,  a  few  hours  before, 
he  had  so  resolutely  intended.  Kindness  began 
whispering  in  the  ears  of  Duty,  and  crowding  them 
with  a  world  of  new  suggestions.  The  heart  of  the 
stern  man  was  softened,  and  there  flowed  into  it 
something  of  a  mother's  yearning  tenderness. 
Rising  up,  at  length,  Deacon  Browning  said,  in  a 
low  voice,  so  new  in  its  tones  -to  the  ears  of  Philip, 
that  it  made  his  heart  leap— 


DUTY    AND   EIXDNESS.  201 

"  My  sou,  I  wish  to  see  you  alone." 

The  deacon  went  into  the  next  room,  and  Philip 
followed  him.  The  deacon  sat  down,  and  Philip 
stood  before  him. 

"  Philip,  my  son " — Deacon  Browning  took  the 
boy's  hand  in  one  of  his,  and  looked  him  full  in  the 
face.  The  look  was  returned — not  a  defiant  look, 
but  one  of  yielding  wonder. 

"  Philip,  I  am  not  going  to  send  you  to  sea  with 
Captain  Ellis.  I  intended  doing  so ;  but,  on  reflec 
tion,  I  think  the  life  will  be  too  hard  for  you." 

Yery  firmly,  yet  kindly,  the  deacon  tried  to 
speak,  but  the  sister  of  Duty  was  playing  with  his 
heart-strings,  and  their  tone  of  pity  was  echoed 
from  his  voice,  that  faltered  when  he  strove  to  give 
it  firmness. 

The  eyes  of  Philip  remained  fixed  upon  the 
countenance  of  his  father. 

"  My  son  " —  Deacon  Browning  thought  he  had 
gained  sufficient  self-control  to  utter  calmly  certain 
mild  forms  of  admonition;  but  he  was  in  error; 
his  voice  was  still  less  under  his  control,  and  so 
fully  betrayed  the  new-born  pity  and  tenderness  in 
his  heart,  that  Philip,  melting  into  penitence,  ex 
claimed,  as  tears,  gushed  from  his  eyes — 

9* 


202          STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

"  Oh,  father !  I've  been  very  wicked,  and  very 
sorry !" 

Involuntarily,  at  this  unexpected  confession,  the 
arms  of  Deacon  Browning  were  stretched  out 
towards  his  repentant  boy,  and  Philip  rushed,  sob 
bing,  into  them. 

The  boy  was  saved.  "From  that  hour  his  father 
had  him  under  the  most  perfect  subordination. 
But  the  twin  sister  of  Duty  walked  ever  by  his 
side. 


IMPERISHABLE   BEAUTY.  203 


XX. 

IMPEEISHABLE  BEAUTY. 

IT  was  a  very  plain  face.  My  eye  rested  upon 
it,  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then  wandered  away 
to  the  countenance  of  another  maiden,  whose 
beauty  ravished  the  eyes  of  every  beholder;  and 
as  I  gazed  with  a  feeling  of  delight,  upon  its  trans 
cendent  loveliness,  an  impulse  of  thankfulness 
stirred  in  my  heart — thankfulness  to  the  Creator  of 
beauty.  The  first  maiden  sat  alone;  around  the 
other  stood  a  group  of  admirers.  So  marked  a 
contrast  between  the  two,  as  well  in  features  as  in 
the  impression  made  thereby,  excited,  first,  some 
thing  like  pity  for  her  whom  nature  had  endowed 
so  poorly ;  and  I  turned  to  look  at  her  again  with 
a  kinder  feeling  in  my  heart. 

There  she  sat  all  alone.  Yes,  her  face  was  very, 
very  plain ;  but  it  did  not  strike  me  as  repulsive. 
The  mouth,  which  had  nothing  of  the  ripe  fullness 


204:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

that  gave  such  an  enamoring  grace  to  the  other 
maiden,  was  placid ;  and  though  not  encircled  by 
a  perpetual  wreath  of  smiles,  calmly  enthroned  the 
gentle  spirit  of  content.  Her  eyes  were  small,  the 
lashes  thin,  and  the  arch  above  them  faintly  visible. 
Arch  ?  I  can  scarcely  give  it  that  graceful  desig 
nation.  I  had  not  yet  seen  the  expression  of  those 
eyes.  As  I  looked  towards  her,  with  that  strange 
consciousness  of  observation  which  all  have  re 
marked,  but  which  few  can  explain,  she  turned  her 
eyes  from  another  part  of  the  room,  and  looked 
at  me.  They  did  not  flash  brilliantly,  nor  strike 
me,  at  the  first  glance,  as  having  in  them  anything 
peculiar.  They  were  the  common  eyes  we  meet  at 
every  turn — no  soul  in  them.  I  give  my  first  im 
pression.  My  second  was  different.  I  had  turned 
my  eyes  away ;  but  something  I  had  seen,  caused 
them  almost  involuntarily  to  wander  back  to  the 
maiden's  face.  A  friend  whom  I  highly  regarded 
— a  young  man  of  more  than  common  worth — had 
crossed  the  room,  and  was  standing  before  her. 
She  had  lifted  her  eyes  to  his  face,  and  there  waa 
a  new  light  in  them — not  a  dazzling,  but  a  soft, 
winning  light,  that  purity  and  love  made  almost 
beautiful. 


IMPERISHABLE   BEAUTY.  205 

They  were  conversing,  and  I  watched,  for  some 
time,  the  play  of  that  unattractive  countenance— 
unattractive  no  longer. 

"Ah  !"  said  I,  "there  is  a  beautiful  soul  within 
that  casket." 

And  as  I  spoke  thus,  in  the  silence  of  my  own 
thoughts,  I  looked  towards  the  other  maiden,  who 
was  still  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  admirers. 

"Her  beauty  is  wonderful!"  I  could  not  help 
the  utterance  of  this  tribute  to  her  charms.  Yet 
scarcely  had  I  spoken  the  words,  when  she  turned 
to  one  of  the  group  which  had  gathered  about  her, 
a  slight  curl  of  unlovely  scorn  upon  her  lips,  and 
threw  at  him  an  arrowy  word  that  wounded  as  it 
struck.  She  saw  that  it  hurt,  and  a  gleam  of  pleas 
ure  went  forth  from  her  brilliant  eyes. 

A  filmy  veil  came  between  me  and  that  coun 
tenance,  which,  a  little  while  before,  had  shone 
with  a  loveliness  that  was  absolutely  enchanting. 
I  turned  again  to  the  other  maiden.  My  friend 
still  stood  before  her,  and  her  eyes  were  lifted  to 
his  face.  She  was  uttering  some  sentiments — what, 
I  did  not  hear — but  they  must  have  been  good  and 
beautiful  in  conception,  to  have  filled  every  linea 
ment  with  such  a  winning  grace. 


206  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"Ah !"  said  I,  the  real  truth  dawning  upon  my 
mind,  "here  is  the  inner,  imperishable  beauty. 
The  beauty,  which,  instead  of  losing  its  spring 
time  freshness,  forever  advances  towards  eternal 
youth." 

A  few  weeks  later,  and  my  friend  communicated 
to  me  the  intelligence,  that  his  heart  had  been  won 
by  the  charms  of  this  unattractive  maiden.  Once 
he  had  been  a  worshipper  at  the  other  shrine — the 
shrine  of  beauty;  and  I  knew  that,  only  a  few 
months  before,  hand  and  heart  were  ready  to  be 
offered.  Accepted  they  would  have  been,  for  he 
had  personal  beauty,  attractive  manners,  wealth, 
and  above  all,  a  manly,  honorable  spirit. 

For  all  I  had  seen,  I  was  scarcely  prepared  for 
this.  The  maiden  might  be  good — I  did  not  ques 
tion  that — but  she  was  so  homely ;  and  this  home 
liness  would  be  only  the  more  apparent  in  contrast 
with  his  elegant  exterior.  It  was  almost  on  my  lip 
to  remonstrate — to  suggest  this  thought  to  his  mind. 
But  I  prudently  forbore. 

"  Tou  know  her  well,  I  hope."  I  could  not  help 
the  utterance  of  this  caution. 

"  She  is  not  thought  to  be  beautiful,"  he  replied, 
seeming  to  perceive  my  thoughts,  "  indeed,  as  to 


IMPERISHABLE   BEAUTY.  207 

features,  slie  is  plain ;  yet,  in  person,  she  is  tall, 
graceful,  dignified,  and  with  a  carriage  that  a  queen 
might  envy." 

This  was  true  to  the  letter.  I  had  not  thought 
of  it  before.  Nature  had  given  at  least  this  com 
pensation. 

"But  the  higher  beauty,"  he  added,  "is  of  the 
soul.  All  else  is  soon  diminished.  Scarcely  has  the 
blushing  girl  stepped  forward  through  the  opening 
door  of  womanhood,  ere  we  see  the  lustre  of  her 
blossoming  cheek  beginning  to  tarnish  in  the  social 
atmosphere,  or  to  pale  from  disease.  But  the  soul's 
beauty  dims  not,  wanes  not,  dies  not.  It  is  as  im 
perishable  as  the  soul  itself.  Our  bodies  die,  but 

the  soul  is  immortal." 

« 

"If  she  possesses  this  beauty?" 

"I  know  that  she  possesses  it,"  he  answered, 
warmly.  "  I  have  seen  it  looking  forth  from  hei 
eyes,  wreathing  about  her  lips,  and  giving  to  every 
lineament  a  heavenly  charm.  It  is  musical  in 
every  tone  of  her  voice." 

"  Goodness  alone  is  beautiful,"  I  said. 

"  And  she  is  good,"  he  replied.  "  I  never  met 
one  who  so  rarely  spoke  of  herself,  or  who  seemed 
to  take  so  loving  an  interest  in  humanity." 


208  STEPS   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 

"That  is  God-like." 

"  Is  not  God  the  very  source  of  all  beauty  ?  To 
be  God-like,  then,  is  to  be  beautiful.  Ah !"  he 
added,  "  I  have  found,  indeed,  a  treasure !  Morn 
ing  and  evening  I  thank  the  good  Giver,  that  he 
opened  my  eyes  to  see  deeper  than  the  unalluring 
surface.  I  was  dazzled,  once,  by  a  glittering  ex 
terior  ;  but  have  a  clearer  vision  now." 

"  "Win  her  and  wear  her,  then,"  I  replied,  "  and 
may  she  be  to  you  all  your  fancy  pictures." 

"  She  is  won,"  he  answered,  "  and  I  shall  wear 
her  proudly  in  the  eyes  of  all  men." 

There  was  a  world  of  surprise  when  it  became 
known  that  my  handsome  friend  was  about  leading 
his  chosen  bride  to  the  marriage  altar. 

9 

"  How  could  he  throw  himself  away  upon  such 
an  ugly  creature  ?"  said  one,  coarsely. 

"  He  might  have  taken  his  choice  from  the  love 
liest,"  remarked  another. 

"  He  will  tire  of  that  face  in  a  month.  All  the 
gold  of  Ophir  would  not  bribe  me  to  sit  opposite  to 
it  for  a  year." 

And  so  the  changes  rung. 

But  my  friend  knew  what  he  was  doing.  I  was 
present  at  the  wedding. 


IMPERISHABLE   BEAL'TY.  201) 

"If  she  were  not  so  homely!"  I  heard  a  ladj 
remark,  as  she  stood  beside  her  handsome  young 
husband.  "  What  can  he  see  in  her  to  love  ?" 

I  turned  and  looked  at  the  speaker.  Nature  had 
been  kind  in  giving  her  an  attractive  face ;  but  the 
slight  curl  of  contempt  that  was  on  her  lip  marred 
everything.  I  glanced  back  to  the  young  bride's 
countenance;  her  pure  soul  was  shining  through 
it,  like  light  through  a  veil.  To  me,  she  seemed  at 
that  moment  more  beautiful  than  the  other ;  and 
far  more  worthy  to  be  loved. 

The  brilliantly  beautiful  maiden  of  whom  1  have 
spoken,  gave  her  hand  in  marriage  about  the  same 
time.  Her  husband  was  a  young  man  of  good 
character,  kind  feelings,  and  with  sufficient  income 
to  enable  them  to  live  in  a  style  of  imposing  ele 
gance.  A  series  of  gay  parties  was  the  social  wel 
come  given  to  the  lovely  bride.  But  such  honor 
did  not  attend  the  nuptials  of  her  plainer  sister. 

A  few  years  later,  and  the  spiritual  qualities  of 
each  were  more  apparent  in  their  faces.  I  remem 
ber  meeting  both,  in  company,  ten  years  after  their 
marriage.  I  was  standing  at  one  end  of  the  room, 
when  an  over-dressed  woman,  with  a  showy  face, 
came  in,  accompanied  by  a  gentleman  whom  I 


210  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

knew,  not  as  an  acquaintance,  but  as  a  man  of 
business  and  the  husband  of  the  beauty.  I  should 
scarcely  have  recognized  the  latter,  but  for  him. 
What  a  change  was  there !  At  a  distance,  the  face 
struck  you  as  still  beautiful,  but,  on  a  closer  view, 
the  illusion  vanished.  The  mouth  had  grown 
sensual,  peevish,  and  ill-natured ;  the  eyes  were 
bright,  but  the  brightness  repelled  rather  than 
attracted.  After  awhile,  wondering  at  the  change, 
I  drew  near  and  entered  into  conversation  with 
her.  The  music  of  her  voice  I  remembered.  There 
was  no  music  in  it  now ;  at  least  none  for  my  ears. 
A  certain  abruptness  in  her  manners,  born  of  pride, 
or  superciliousness,  was  to  me  particularly  offen 
sive.  I  tried  her  on  various  subjects,  in  order  to 
bring  out  some  better  aspects  of  her  character. 
The  Swedish  Nightingale  had  just  been  here,  and 
had  sung  to  my  heart  as  no  living  man  or  woman 
had  ever  sung — I  spoke  of  her.  "  Too  artificial," 
was  the  reply,  with  an  air  of  critical  vanity,  that 
gave  to  my  feelings  a  ripple  of  indignation.  I 
referred  to  a  new  poem,  admirable  for  its  purity  of 
style;  she  coldly  remarked  with  depreciation  on 
some  of  its  special  beauties,  merely  repeating,  as  I 
knew,  a  certain  captious  reviewer.  I  was  in  doubt 


IMPERISHABLE   BEAUTY.  211 

whether  she  had  read  even  a  page  of  the  book. 
Then  I  spoke  of  a  lady  present.  She  tossed  her 
head,  and  arched  her  lip,  saying,  "  She's  too  fond 
of  gentlemen's  attentions." 

I  varied  still  my  efforts,  but  to  no  good  purpose. 
The  more  I  conversed  with  her,  the  less  beautiful 
became  her  face,  for  the  unloveliness  of  her  true 
character  was  perpetually  gleaming  through  and 
spoiling  the  already  sadly-marred  features.  I  left 
her  side,  on  the  first  good  opportunity,  glad  to  get 
away.  Ten  years  ago,  in  all  companies,  she  was 
the  cynosure  of  every  eye.  The  praise  of  her 
beauty  was  on  every  lip.  But  so  changed  was  she 
now,  that  none  bent  to  do  her  reverence.  I  noticed 
her  sitting  alone,  with  a  discontented  look,  long 
after  I  had  left  my  place  by  her  side.  Her  hus 
band,  for  all  the  attentions  he  paid  her  during 
the  evening,  might  have  been  unconscious  of  her 
presence. 

But  there  was  another  lady  in  the  room,  who 
was,  all  the  while,  the  centre  of  an  admiring  circle. 
None,  perhaps,  considered  her  face  beautiful ;  yet 
to  every  one  who  looked  upon  it,  came  a  percep 
tion  of  beauty  that  associated  itself  with  her  indi 
viduality.  In  repose,  her  features  were  plain,  yet 


212  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

not  repulsive  in  the  slightest  particular.  But, 
when  thought  and  feeling  flowed  into  them,  every 
eye  was  charmed.  There  was  a  nameless  grace  in 
her  manner  that  gave  additional  power  to  the  at 
tractions  of  her  countenance. 

I  was  half  in  doubt,  at  first,  of  her  identity,  as  I 
gazed  upon  her  from  a  distant  part  of  the  room ; 
she  looked,  in  my  eyes,  so  really  beautiful.  But 
the  presence  of  my  old  friend  in  the  group,  my  old 
friend  who  had  been  wise  enough  to  prefer  beauty 
of  soul  to  beauty  of  face,  removed  all  questions, 
and  passing  over,  I  added  another  to  the  circle 
which  had  gathered  around  her. 

There  was  nothing  obtrusive  in  her  conversation ; 
nothing  of  conscious  pride;  but  a  calm,  and,  at 
times,  earnest  utterance  of  true  sentiments.  'Not 
once  during  the  evening  did  I  hear  a  word  from 
her  lips  that  jarred  the  better  feelings. 

"The  good  are  beautiful!"  Many  times  did 
this  sentiment  find  spontaneous  utterance  in  my 
thoughts  as  I  looked  upon  her ;  and  then  turned 
my  eyes  to  the  discontented  face  of  another,  who, 
a  few  years  before,  carried  oif,  in  every  company, 
the  palm  of  loveliness. 

Yes,  here  was  the  imperishable  beauty !  Maiden  1 


IMPERISHABLE   BEAUTY.  213 

would  you  find  this  beauty  ?  !N"o  matter  if  your 
features  were  not  cast  in  classic  mould,  this  higher, 
truer  beauty  may  be  yours  if  you  will  seek  for  it  in 
the  denial  of  selfishness,  and  the  repression  of  dis 
content.  "  The  good  are  beautiful."  Lay  that  up 
in  your  thoughts.  Treasure  it  as  the  most  sublime 
wisdom. 

Gather  into  the  store-house  of  your  minds  sen 
timents  of  regard  for  others ;  and  let  your  hands 
engage  in  gentle  charities.  To  do  good  and  to 
communicate  forget  not.  If  tempted  to  murmur, 
think  of  your  many  blessings ;  if  to  repine,  of  the 
thousands  who  are  sick  and  in  suffering.  Be  hum 
ble,  gentle,  forgiving,  and  above  all — useful. 
These  are  the  graces  that  shine  through  the  outer 
coverings  of  the  soul,  and  reveal  themselves  in 
light  and  loveliness  to  all  eyes. 

The  good  never  grow  homely  as  they  grow  old. 
The  outer  eye  may  become  dim,  and  the  cheek 
loose  its  freshness,  but  in  the  place  of  earthly 
charms  will  come  a  spiritual  beauty,  unfading  as 
eternity. 


STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 


XXI. 
NEIGHBOK  GKAY. 

"  HAVE  you  met  our  new  neighbor  Gray,  friend 
Tompkins  ?"  inquired  one  farmer  of  another.    They   , 
were  at  Peter  Craig's  blacksmith  shop. 

"  No ;  and  what's  more,  I  don't  want  to  meet 
him,"  was  abruptly  answered. 

"  Don't  want  to  meet  him  ?" 

"  No !  I've  said  just  what  I  mean,"  replied  Tomp 
kins,  ill-naturedly.  "  I  don't  want  to  meet  him,  nor 
have  anything  to  do  with  him." 

"You'll  change  your  mind,  I  think,"  said  the 
blacksmith. 

"Will  I?"  A  sneer  curled  the  lip  of  farmer 
Tompkins. 

"  Yes,  and  that  before  Mr.  Gray  is  two  months 
in  Splinterville,"  replied  Peter  Craig.  "But, 
pray,  tell  us  what  ypu  have  against  our  new  neigh 
bor. 


NEIGHBOR   GRAY.  215 

"  Oh,  nothing  very  particular,  only  I  don't  like 
him." 

"  There  is  one  thing  to  be  said  in  his  favor,"  re 
marked  the  blacksmith — "  he  keeps  good  stock." 

"Humph !  ]STo  better  than  is  to  be  found  in  the 
neighborhood,"  said  Tompkins.  "No  better,  in 
fact,  than  I  have." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  returned  Peter  Craig. 
"  I  put  shoes  on  his  carriage  horses  yesterday,  and, 
if  I'm  any  judge,  their  match  is  not  within  ten 
miles  of  these  parts.  No,  no,  friend  Tompkins, 
you  hav'n't  the  horseflesh  on  your  sixty  acres  that 
will  compare  with  neighbor  Gray's. 

"  Bah  !  neighbor  Gray's  !  Nobody's  got  any 
thing,  from  a  patent  pitchfork  up  to  a  threshing 
machine,  that  will  compare  with  neighbor  Gray's ! 
It  makes  me  downright  angry  to  hear  people  talk 
after  this  fashion.  Who's  Mr.  Gray,  I'd  like  to 
know?" 

"  He's  a  gentleman,"  said  the  blacksmith,  a  little 
warmly. 

"Gentleman!"  Tompkins  spoke  with  a  bitter 
sneer,  "  I  hate  gentlemen  !" 

"The  gentleman  is  the  only  true  man,"  remarked 
Peter  Craig. 


216  8TEP8   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 

"  Of  course :  kid  gloves,  calf-skin,  broadcloth,  and 
beaver,  are  everything,  and  the  individual  nothing." 

"  Not  so  fast,  friend  Tompkins ;  not  so  fast.  It  is 
the  heart  that  makes  the  gentleman." 

"  If  that  is  the  case,  I  don't  think  there's  much 
chance  for  your  new  neighbor.  But,  gentleman,  or 
no  gentleman,  I  detest  this  Gray  from  the  bottom 
of  my  heart,  and  wish  he  were  a  thousand  miles 
away  from  Splinterville !" 

As  Tompkins  closed  this  sentence,  in  a  pretty 
loud  tone  of  voice,  his  ear  caught  the  sound  of  a 
footstep,  and  turning  quickly,  he  saw  Mr.  Gray 
approaching  through  the  blacksmith's  shop,  having 
entered  by  the  opposite  door  from  the  one  near 
which  the  little  group  of  men  were  standing.  He 
was  near  enough  to  have  heard  the  closing  sen 
tence,  and,  from  the  expression  of  his  countenance, 
it  was  pretty  evident  that  its  meaning  was  under 
stood. 

The  moment  Tompkins  saw  him,  his  face  crim 
soned,  and,  turning  off  abruptly,  he  strode  away. 
As  he  did  so,  he  thought  he  heard  the  voice  of  Mr. 
Gray  calling  after  him.  But  he  had  not  the  man 
liness  to  stop  and  meet,  face  to  face,  the  individual 
whose  name  he  had  used  so  freely. 


STEIGHBOK   GRAY.  217 

.An  ill-natured,  jealous-minded,  unhappy  kind  of 
a  man  was  this  Tompkins.  You  will  find  his  coun 
terpart  in  almost  every  neighborhood.  Mr.  Gray, 
towards  whom  he  cherished  such  unkind  feelings, 
had  bought,  some  months  before,  the  farm  that 
immediately  adjoined  his,  and,  a  few  weeks  pre 
viously,  taken  formal  possession.  Now,  Tompkins 
wanted  this  farm,  and  had  been  for  some  time 
endeavoring  to  strike  a  bargain  with  its  previous 
owner,  when  Mr.  Gray,  seeing  the  property  adver 
tised  for  sale,  complied  with  the  terms,  and  became 
the  purchaser.  Tompkins  wished  to  exchange  his 
farm  for  the  other,  and  give  notes  for  the  differ 
ence  in  price ;  and  although  the  owner  had  two  or 
three  times  declined  his  offer,  he  was  still  in  hope 
of  making  the  arrangement,  when  Mr.  Gray  dashed 
all  his  hopes  to  the  ground. 

From  that  moment  he  hated  Mr.  Gray  in  his 
heart,  and  wished  him  all  manner  of  evil.  But  for 
all  this,  Tompkins  didn't  feel  very  comfortable  in 
mind  about  the  harsh  sentence  which  he  was  very 
certain  Mr.  Gray  had  heard.  Talk  as  freely  as  he 
would  behind  his  neighbor's  back,  he  was  not  quite 
prepared  to  denounce  him  to  his  face  ;  and  for  this 
reason,  if  for  none  other,  he  could  show  no  cause 

10 


218  STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

for  his  animosity.  The  farm  was  in  market,  and 
his  new  neighbor  had  as  good  a  right  to  purchase 
as  any  one  else.  It  was  not  at  all  probable  that 
Mr.  Gray  knew  anything  about  his  previous  nego 
tiations  ;  and  even  if  he  had,  that  was  no  reason 
why  he  should  not  purchase  if  an  offer  of  the 
farm  were  made  to  him. 

Compelled  now  to  look  at  the  affair  as  if  looking 
upon  it  with  other  people's  eyes,  Tompkins  was  not 
able  to  justify  himself  in  the  unkind  attitude  he 
had  taken.  Imagination  brought  him  face  to  face 
with  the  incensed  Mr.  Gray,  who  said  to  him,  in  a 
stern,  demanding  voice : 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  language  ?  What 
have  I  done,  that  you  detest  me,  and  wish  me  a 
thousand  miles  away  from  Splinterville  ?" 

In  vain  did  farmer  Tompkins  seek  to  frame  some 
reply  in  his  thoughts  that  would  have  the  appear 
ance  of  justification.  It  would  not  answer  to  refuse 
giving  any  reason  for  his  conduct ;  for  that  would 
place  him  in  the  light  of  a  mere  traducer  of  his 
neighbor  without  cause.  Nor  would  it  do  to  state 
the  true  reason ;  for  that  was  one  which,  however 
valid  in  his  own  eyes,  could  hardly  appear  so  in 
the  eyes  of  anybody  else. 


NEIGHBOR   GRAY.  219 

Farmer  Tompkins  was  in  something  of  a  quan 
dary.  He  had  brought  himself  into  rather  a  hu 
miliating  relation  to  this  new  neighbor ;  and  the 
more  he  thought  about  it,  the  less  clearly  did  he 
see  himself  honorably  out  of  his  trouble. 

But  Tompkins  was  not  the  man  to  "  humble  him 
self,"  to  use  his  own  words,  to  any  one,  by  acknow 
ledging  that  he  had  done  wrong,  no  matter  how 
sharp  were  his  own  convictions  on  the  subject. 
And  of  all  men  in  the  world,  Mr.  Gray  was  the  last 
to  whom  he  would  make  humiliating  acknowledg 
ments.  He  hated  and  despised  him  the  more  now 
that  he  felt  himself  something  in  his  power.  And 
he  determined  to  brave  it  out.  If  neighbor  Gray 
called  upon  him  for  explanations,  he  would  insult 
him  to  his  face! 

On  the  next  morning  Tompkins  had  occasion  to 
visit  the  blacksmith's  shop  again. 

"  What  did  that  Gray  have  to  say  about  me 
yesterday  ?"  he  asked  of  Peter  Craig,  in  his  most 
abrupt,  ill-natured  manner. 

"He  didn't  mention  your  name,"  replied  the 
blacksmith. 

The  farmer  looked  surprised. 

"  He  must  have  heard  me." 


220  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

"  I  rather  think  he  did,"  said  the  black 
smith. 

"  And  didn't  say  anything  at  all  V • 

"  Not  about  you." 

Farmer  Tompkins  was  puzzled  and  disappointed 
Much  as  he  hated,  and  affected  to  despise  Mr. 
Gray,  he  felt  nervous  about  the  effect  produced 
upon  him  by  the  harsh  words  he  had  spoken ;  and 
he  had  hoped  to  get  some  clue  thereto  from  the 
blacksmith. 

A  few  hours  later  in  the  day,  as  he  was  riding 
away  from  home,  he  saw  his  new  neighbor  ap 
proaching  along  the  road  not  far  distant.  Obeying 
the  first  impulse  of  his  mind,  he  turned  his  horse's 
head,  and  struck  off  into  a  narrow  lane,  that  took 
him  nearly  a  mile  out  of  his  way.  In  consequence, 
he  was  too  late  for  an  appointment  at  which  some 
important  business  was  to  be  done,  and  lost  an  ex-, 
pected  advantage. 

"  I  wish  this  Gray  had  been  in  the  Dead  Sea 
before  he  thought  of  coming  to  Splinterville," 
was  his  angry  ejaculation,  when,  on  arriving  at  the 
appointed  place,  he  found  the  business  closed,  and 
all  the  benefit  he  had  hoped  to  gain  forever  beyond 
his  reach. 


NEIGHBOR    GRAY.  221. 

Just  as  farmer  Tompkins,  on  returning  from  his 
fruitless  ride,  came  in  sight  of  home,  he  saw  Mr. 
Gray  leaving  the  house.  He  rubbed  his  eyes,  and 
looked  again.  Yes ;  it  was  even  so.  Mr.  Gray 
was  passing  through  the  gate;  and  now  was 
moving  down  the  road  in  the  direction  of  his  own 
home.  Tompkins  slackened  the  speed  of  his  horse 
so  that  he  might  not  come  too  fully  in  view  until 
Mr.  Gray  reached  a  bend  in  the  road,  around 
which  he  passed  out  of  sight. 

"  What  did  that  fellow  want  ?"  he  asked,  sharply, 
of  his  wife,  on  reaching  home. 

"  Of  whom  are  you  speaking  ?"  she  inquired. 

"  Why  of  Gray ;  confound  him !" 

"  He  merely  asked  for  you,"  replied  the  wife. 

"  Did  he  say  that  he  would  call  again  ?" 

"No." 

"  Humph  !"  Farmer  Tompkins  was  worried.  It 
was  plain  that  Mr.  Gray  was  not  a  man  to  be  as 
sailed  and  traduced  without  calling  his  traducer  to 
an  account.  So  far  as  vituperation  was  concerned, 
farmer  Tompkins  found  that  an  easy  matter — it 
came  as  "  natural  as  eating."  But  the  thought  of 
being  called  to  an  account — of  being  asked  for 
explanations — of  being  required  to  give  reasons 


222  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

for  the  strong  language  he  had  seen  proper  to  use, 
was  very  far  from  being  agreeable. 

All  that  afternoon,  farmer  Tompkins  was  in 
hourly  dread  of  another  call  from  his  new  neighbor 
Gray.  Every  sound  of  approaching  feet,  or  sudden 
call,  or  noise  of  the  shutting  gate,  caused  him  to 
start,  or  look  up  from  his  work.  He  was  provoked 
with  himself  for  all  this ;  but,  for  his  life,  could  not 
help  it.  A  little  while  before  sundown  he  came 
over  from  the  barn  to  get  something  from  the 
house.  As  he  came  in  at  the  back  door,  a  young 
woman,  wearing  a  blue  sun-bonnet,  went  out  at  the 
front  door. 

"  Who  is  that  ?"  he  asked  of  his  wife. 

"  Neighbor  Gray's  girl,"  was  replied. 

The  farmer's  heart  gave  a  quicker  bound. 

"What  did  she  want?" 

He  knit  his  brows  as  he  awaited  the  answer. 

"  Mrs.  Gray  sent  over  a  tumbler  of  calf's  foot 
jelly  for  Maggy." 

Now,  Maggy  was  a  dear  little  two  years'  old  pet, 
with  soft  blue  eyes,  and  light  brown  hair  that  fell 
in  wavy  circles  about  her  neck,  and  a  heart  as  full 
of  love,  as  that  of  her  father  was  of  ill-will  to  al 
most  every  one  but  herself.    To  him  she  was  sun 


NEIGHBOR   GRAY.  223 

light  and  joy.  The  love  that  gushed  forth  for  her, 
seemed  all  the  stronger  because  it  had  free  course 
in  no  other  direction.  But  Maggy  was  sick.  A  fall 
fever  had  seized  upon  her  delicate  frame,  and 
wasted  her  almost  to  a  shadow,  and  now,  although 
the  destroyer  had  departed  from  their  dwelling, 
the  child  was  as  weak  as  in  the  days  of  earliest 
infancy. 

"  Mrs.  Gray  sent  over  a  tumbler  of  calf's  foot 
jelly  for  Maggy." 

What  an  unexpected  answer !  Farmer  Tompkins 
was  altogether  unprepared  for  it. 

"  How  did  she  know  that  Maggy  was  sick  ?" 

His  voice  was  less  imperative. 

"  Mr.  Gray  asked  about  her  when  he  was  here 
this  morning." 

"Who?  What?" 

Farmer  Tompkins  was  again  taken  by  surprise. 

"  Mr.  Gray  asked  kindly  about  her ;  and  when  I 
told  him  that  she  was  better,  looked  very  much 
pleased." 

The  farmer  turned  his  face  partly  away,  so  that 
his  wife  should  not  see  its  expression. 

"How  does  Maggy  seem  this  afternoon?"  he 
asked,  a  few  moments  afterwards. 


224:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"Better,"  said  the  wife. 

"  I  must  look  at  her  for  a  moment ;  dear  little 
pet !"  And  Tompkins  went  into  the  bedroom  where 
she  lay.  An  older  sister  stood  by  her  side,  holding 
the  calf's  foot  jelly,  and  feeding  her  with  it. 

"  How  is  my  little  Maggy  ?"  said  the  father,  a& 
he  bent  over  and  kissed  her. 

"I'm  better,"  she  answered,  smiling — then 
added,  in  a  pleased  way, 

"  Don't  you  think  Mrs.  Gray  was  very  good  tc 
send  me  this  nice  calf's  foot  jelly  ?" 

"Yes,  dear." 

How  could  he  help  answering  yes  ? 

When  farmer  Tompkins  returned  to  the  barn,  he 
felt  very  strangely.  There  was  a  pressure  on  his 
feelings,  for  which  he  could  not  clearly  account , 
and  no  wonder — for  the  farmer  was  not  much 
given  to  the  observation  of  his  own  mental  pro 
cesses.  That  little  act  of  kindness  towards  Maggy, 
BO  altogether  unexpected,  had  thrown  his  mind  into 
sudden  confusion.  He  had  felt  a  dislike  for  Mrs. 
Gray,  simply  because  he  hated  her  husband — but 
how  could  he  continue  to  cherish  this  feeling  for 
one  who  had  shown  kindness  towards  his  little 
Maggy?  It  was  next  to  impossible.  And  Mr. 


NEIGHBOR   GRAY. 


225 


Gray  had  asked  after  Maggy !  And  further  still — 
it  was  natural  to  conclude,  that  the  kind  act  of  his 
wife  had  some  sort  of  dependence  upon  his  direc 
tion  of  her  thoughts  towards  the  sick  child. 

"  I  wish  I  hadn't  said  anything  against  him  at 
Peter  Craig's."  Now  that  thought  marked  the 
beginning  of  a  better  state  of  mind  in  farmer 
Tompkins.  "  I  don't  like  him ;  and  will  never  for 
give  him  as  long  as  I  live.  But  there  is  no  occasion 
to  make  an  enemy  even  of  a  dog.  And,  of  course, 
he's  my  sworn  enemy  from  this  day  forth.  I  won 
der  what  brought  him  over  here.  No,  I  don't 
wonder  either !  "Well,  let  him  do  his  worst ;  he'll 
find  no  backing  down  in  Ephraim  Tompkins." 

On  the  next  morning,  Tompkins  went  over  to  the 
blacksmith's  shop  to  see  if  Peter  Craig  had  finished 
mending  a  plough  which  he  had  left  there  some 
days  before.  He  had  said  nothing  about  being  in 
a  hurry ;  and  did  not  really  want  the  plough  for  a 
week.  But  he  thought  he  would  step  over  and  see 
how  the  work  was  progressing.  As  he  entered  the 
shop,  he  saw  the  plough  lying  near  the  forge.  But 
the  blacksmith  was  hammering  away  upon  a  wagon 
tire.  Now,  although  Tompkins  didn't  want  the 
plough  for  some  days,  he  felt  displeased  at  seeing  his 

10* 


226  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

work  put  aside  for  the  work  of  somebody  else,  and 
said,  a  little  tartly — 

"  I  expected  to  see  that  plough  finished  by  this 
time." 

"  And  so  it  would  have  been,  friend  Tompkins ; 
but  our  new  neighbor,  Mr.  Gray,  had  the  misfortune 
to  break  a  wagon-tire  yesterday  afternoon,  just  in  the 
midst  of  some  hauling  that  must  be  finished  by  to 
morrow.  So  I  let  your  plough  lie,  as  I  knew  you 
were  not  in  a  hurry,  and  was  sure  you  would  be 
willing  to  oblige  Mr.  Gray.  I  will  have  it  all 
ready  for  you  in  the  morning." 

"  To-morrow  morning  won't  do !"  said  Tompkins, 
angrily.  "  I  want  my  plough  to-day !" 

"  I'm  sorry,"  said  the  blacksmith,  in  a  troubled 
manner.  "  I  didn't  think  it  would  make  any  dif 
ference,  or  I  wouldn't  have  put  aside  your  work  for 
Mr.  Gray  or  anybody  else." 

"  Oh  yes  you  would !"  retorted  Tompkins,  in  a 
spiteful  tone.  "  Mr.  Gray  is  everything  in  Splin- 
terville  now — and  I'm  nobody !" 

"Don't  say  that,  friend  Tompkins,"  said  the 
blacksmith  ;  "  I  would  do  your  work  as  quickly  as 
I  would  Mr.  Gray's.  If  the  plough  had  belonged 
to  him,  and  you  had  come  with  the  broken  wagon- 


NEIGHBOR   GRAY,  227 

tire,  I  would  have  laid  aside  the  plough  to  mend 
the  tire." 

But  farmer  Tompkins  was  not  disposed  to  listen 
to  reason.  This  act  of  letting  his  work  lie  over  for 
a  day,  in  order  to  do  that  of  his  neighbor,  against 
whom  he  had  so  deep  a  grudge,  made  him  almost 
blind  with  passion,  and  he  was  talking  in  a  loud, 
angry  voice,  when  neighbor  Gray's  form  darkened 
the  door  of  the  blacksmith  shop.  The  new  neigh 
bor  had  called  over  to  see  how  the  mending  of  the 
wagon-tire  progressed.  Just  as  he  entered,  Tomp 
kins  used  his  name  in  connection  with  some  pretty 
harsh  language.  Not  seeming  to  notice  this,  Mr. 
Gray  came  forward,  and  offering  his  hand  to  Mr. 
Tompkins,  said  very  kindly — 

"How  is  your  little  daughter  this  morning?  I 
hope  she  is  very  much  better  ?" 

"  She  is  better,  I  thank  you,"  replied  Tompkins, 
almost  stammering  out  the  words,  at  the  same  time 
that  he  allowed  Mr.  Gray  to  take  his  hand  and  shake 
it,  pretty  much  as  he  would  have  shaken  a  stick. 

"  I  hope,"  continued  Mr.  Gray,  "  that  our  friend 
the  blacksmith  hasn't  done  anything  wrong  in  lay 
ing  aside  your  work  to  do  mine.  If  so,  I  pray  you 
to  let  all  the  blame  fall  upon  my  shoulders.  We 


228  STEPS   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 

were  so  unfortunate  as  to  break  our  wagon-tire, 
and  all  our  work  was  at  a  stand-still  until  it  was 
mended.  It  was  one  of  tliose  emergencies  in 
which  all  neighbors  are  ready  to  accommodate 
each  other,  even  at  the  cost  of  a  little  inconve 
nience." 

Now,  farmer  Tompkins  hardly  expected  a  greet 
ing  like  this,  and  was  considerably  thrown  aback, 
as  the  sailors  say.  The  kind  inquiry  after  Maggy 
— the  remembrance  of  Mrs.  Gray's  thoughtful  at 
tention  to  the  sick  child — and,  more  particularly, 
the  open,  frank,  friendly  manner  in  which  Mr. 
Gray  spoke,  all  had  the  effect  to  disarm  him.  He 
wanted  to  repel  the  new  neighbor — to  speak  out 
"  his  mind  "  to  him — to  let  him  see  something  of 
the  antagonism  that  was  in  his  heart.  But  the  cor 
dial  good  nature,  and  kind,  gentlemanly  bearing  of 
Mr.  Gray  were  too  much  for  him,  and  thawed  the 
ice  of  his  feelings  faster  than  a  determined  ill  nature 
could  freeze  the  surface. 

"  I  called  over  yesterday  afternoon,"  continued 
Mr.  Gray,  "  to  mention  what  I  had  done ;  and  ask 
if  it  would  put  you  to  any  inconvenience.  And  I 
intended  to  speak  with  you  about  a  matter  which  I 
will  mention  now.  It  is  this :" 


NEIGHBOR   GEAT.  229 

And  he  drew  farmer  Tompkins  aside,  in  order 
that  he  might  talk  with  him  alone. 

"  I  find,"  he  continued,  "  in  having  the  searches 
made  for  the  purpose  of  fixing  a  true  title  to  the 
farm  just  bought,  and  which  adjoins  yours,  that 
there  has  been  a  clear  mistake  in  running  the 
boundary  between  your  farm  and  mine — a  mistake 
that  includes  at  least  five  acres  of  that  fine  meadow 
land  to  the  west  of  your  barn." 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it !"  exclaimed  farmer 
Tompkins,  firing  up,  and  looking  the  picture  of 
angry  indignation.  "  My  title-deeds  call  for  sixty 
acres,  and  sixty  acres  I  mean  to  hold,  if  I  law  for  it 
until  doomsday !" 

"Gently,  gently,  neighbor  Tompkins,"  replied 
Mr.  Gray.  "  There  need  be  no  trouble  about  the 
matter.  We  don't  need  any  law  to  settle  a  busi 
ness  like  this.  A  compromise,  where  both  partita 
desire  to  do  right,  is  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world. 
You  will  find  me  very  reasonable." 

"It's  more  than  you  will  find  me,  then,  Mr. 
Gray,  if  you  attempt  to  get  five  acres  of  my  mea 
dow  land.  I  can  tell  you  that,  in  the  beginning." 

"I  don't  want  a  foot  of  your  land,"  said  Mr 
Gray. 


230  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  What  then  do  you  want  ?"  demanded  the  exas 
perated  farmer. 

"  Simply  to  do  right,"  was  the  calm  reply.  "  I 
find  that  I  am  considerably  over  on  your  line,  and 
that  the  amount  of  land  I  inclose  which  really  be 
longs  to  you,  is  about  five  acres." 

Farmer  Tompkins  started,  looked  confused,  and 
flushed  to  a  deeper  crimson. 

"  I  requested,"  continued  Mr.  Gray,  "  my  con 
veyancer  to  go  carefully  over  the  matter  again, 
and  make  his  report,  which  was  done  yesterday. 
He  says  there  is  no  doubt  about  the  matter.  I  am 
over  the  line  considerably.  Now,  what  I  wish  to 
say  is  this :  I  will  buy  these  five  acres  at  a  hundred 
dollars  an  acre,  if  you  are  inclined  to  sell ;  if  not, 
I  will  have  my  fence  removed  to  the  true  line, 
which  a  surveyor  can  determine." 

We  need  hardly  say  that  Tompkins  was  com 
pletely  disarmed.  If  a  thunderbolt  had  fallen  at 
his  feet  he  could  not  have  been  more  surprised. 
A  moment  or  two  he  stood  in  bewilderment  of 
mind ;  then  reaching  out  his  hand  to  Mr.  Gray,  he 
said: 

"  I  am  rebuked.  Have  it  your  own  way.  Let 
the  fence  stand  where  it  is,  and  keep  the  land  if 


NEIGHBOR   GBAY.  231 

you  choose — I  shall  still  be  as  well  off  as  I  thought 
myself  an  hour  ago." 

"  Right  is  right,  friend  Tompkins,"  replied  Mr. 
Gray.  "So  if  you  will  walk  over  to  my  house, 
we  will  settle  this  business  at  once.  I  prefer  keep 
ing  the  land  and  paying  for  it  the  price  men 
tioned." 

"  It  is  yours  at  any  price,"  answered  Mr.  Tomp 
kins.  After  a  few  moments  of  silence,  he  added : 
"I  was  your  enemy,  Mr.  Gray — your  enemy,  I  now 
see,  without  a  cause.  You  have  disarmed  me  in 
the  first  encounter.  Let  us  now  be  friends." 

And  he  reached  forth  his  hand,  which  was 
warmly  grasped  by  the  new  neighbor. 

After  that,  farmer  Tompkins  was  a  different 
man.  Mr.  Gray  proved  a  true  friend,  for,  both 
by  example  and  precept,  he  taught  him  a  better 
and  happier  way  in  the  world,  and  he  walked  there 
in  with  a  more  cheerful  spirit  than  of  old 


232  STEPS   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 


XXII. 
SPIRITUAL  PKIDE. 

RESPECTABLE,  orderly,  well -to -do -in -the -world 
people,  wlio  have  comfortable  and,  in  most  cases, 
eligible  pews  in  church ;  who  are  on  familiar 
terms  with  the  minister,  and  whose  opinions,  on 
matters  ecclesiastical  as  well  as  secular,  have 
weight,  are  very  much  inclined  to  lapse  into  the 
impression  that  they  are  elevated  above  the  masses 
of  the  people  in  spiritual  as  well  as  in  external 
things;  that  they  are  better  than  the  poor,  the 
humble,  and  depressed.  You  will  see  them  passing 
up  the  aisles  of  our  churches,  and  taking  the  up 
permost  seats,  with  the  air  of  persons  whose  right 
to  these  places  are  as  natural  as  their  right  to  the 
elegant  homes  their  money  has  purchased.  And 
no  one  questions  their  right  to  these  seats ;  for  they 
have  a  property  in  them,  by  honorable  purchase, 
the  same  as  they  have  in  their  stores  or 


SPIRITUAL   PKIDE.  233 

We  are  looking  below  all  this,  to  the  spirit  that 
animates  them — to  the  approving  self-consciousness 
which  gives  quality  to  the  soul. 

These  individuals  are  very  much  in  danger  of 
falling  into  a  low  kind  of  spiritual  pride.  There  is 
a  spiritual  pride  which  has  its  origin  in  superior 
intellectual  qualities.  Because  a  man  is  able  to 
talk  on  theological  subjects  with  some  acuteness, 
and  to  rise  quite  above  the  ordinary  range  of 
thought  in  matters  of  doctrine,  he  may  indulge  the 
conceit  that  he  is  spiritually  in  advance  of  his 
brethren,  when  he  may  not  have  overcome  a  single 
evil  of  his  selfish  nature.  The  danger  here  is  very 
great.  But  there  is  another  and  meaner  kind  of 
spiritual  pride,  which  builds  its  foundation  walls 
on  the  sandy  basis  of  wealth  and  mere  social  rank. 
The  churches  are  full  of  this.  It  is  the  moth  and 
rust  that  are  eating  daily  at  their  inner  life.  There 
is  a  certain  fashion  in  religion,  or  rather  in  church- 
going,  which  claims  of  its  votaries  as  nice  an  ob 
servance  as  is  demanded  by  fashion  in  dress ;  and  it 
is  far  more  hurtful  than  the  latter,  because  it  in 
volves  a  degradation  of  spiritual  things,  and  makes 
of  the  votary,  so  far  as  religion  is  concerned,  a 
mere  pretender. 


234:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

Mrs.  Hartman,  the  wife  of  a  substantial  mer 
chant,  was  very  much  inclined  to  indulge  in  this 
latter  species  of  spiritual  pride,  if  we  may  dig 
nify  it  with  the  name  of  "  spiritual."  She  was  a 
pious  woman  in  externals.  Her  place  was  never 
vacant  in  church,  and  her  demeanor  while  there 
was  always  devout.  She  never  absented  herself 
from  the  communion  table,  nor  neglected  any  of 
the  public  charities  sanctioned  by  Christian  usage. 
The  minister's  wife  was  her  very  dear  friend,  and 
the  minister  himself  a  regular  visitor  at  the  house. 
In  a  general  way,  Mrs.  Hartman  talked  well  on 
religious  themes,  which  she  always  made  promi 
nent  when  in  the  minister's  company. 

Yery  naturally  did  Mrs.  Hartman  come  to  think 
well  of  herself,  in  a  Christian  point  of  view ;  and 
if  on  some  occasions  her  thoughts  could  have  been 
seen,  they  would  not  have  differed  very  much  from 
those  of  the  Pharisee,  so  strongly  placed  by  our 
Lord  in  contrast  with  the  humble  Publican.  It  is 
very  certain  that  her  estimate  of  the  spiritual  con 
dition  of  the  poor  people  who  attended  worship  inr' 
the  same  church,  on  each  recurring  Sabbath,  was  on 
a  level  with  her  estimate  of  their  natural  condition. 
The  external,  in  her  thought,  corresponded  with  the 


SPIRITUAL   PKIDE.    ,  235 

internal ;  and  so  she  lield  herself  in  stately  attitudes 
when  she  met  any  of  them  that  she  happened  to 
know,  or  spoke  with  forced  smiles,  condescend 
ingly.  Some  were  pleased  with  her  notice  ;  some 
felt  her  manner  as  a  spur  to  pride,  and  experienced 
annoyance ;  while  a  few  met  her  with  quiet,  self- 
possessed  exteriors,  that  a  little  chafed  her  in 
return.  Among  the  latter  was  a  Mrs.  Royal,  a 
widow  in  poor  health  and  poor  circumstances. 
She  had  two  little  girls,  aged  seven  and  nine  years, 
delicate,  sensitive  creatures,  that  were  loved  by 
her  with  a  tenderness  that  grew  deeper  as  health 
and  strength  declined.  By  her  needle  she  earned 
the  bread  that  nourished  them.  At  one  time  she 
had  sewing  from  the  family  of  Mrs.  Hartman ;  but 
she  did  not  seem  grateful  enough  for  the  privilege 
of  making  up  the  under-garments  of  Mrs.  Hartman's 
children ;  and  once  was  so  thoughtless  as  to  say,  in 
a  moment  of  earnest  expression  on  some  religious 
theme,  "  Sister  Hartman." 

Sister  Hartman !  Humph !  she  is  getting  past 
herself."  Thus  the  lady  soliloquized,  after  the  poor 
sewing  woman  had  withdrawn.  "  I  shall  have  her 
calling,  and  leaving  her  card,  as  the  next  move. 
She  doesn't  know  her  place,  and  never  did.  She's 


236  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

quite  too  familiar.  Her  way  of  speaking  to  me  e>  i 
Sundays,  if  we  happen  to  meet  in  the  vestibule,  hao 
always  annoyed  me.  I  shall  send  her  no  more  work." 

And  Mrs.  Hartman  kept  her  word.  Mrs.  Royal 
never  called,  however,  to  leave  her  card,  as  the 
other  had  affected  to  apprehend.  But  if  she  hap 
pened  to  meet  her  anywhere,  it  was  with  the  old 
quiet,  self-possessed  exterior,  that  Mrs.  Hartman's 
pride  of  position  felt  almost  as  an  insult. 

It  so  happened,  in  the  progress  of  benevolent 
movements  connected  with  the  church,  that  the 
formation  of  a  home  for  orphan  children  was  pro 
jected.  The  first  suggestion  came  from  Mrs.  Hart 
man  ;  and,  in  consequence,  she  not  only  felt  a  kind 
of  property  in  the  scheme,  but  a  certain  right  to 
exercise  a  controlling  influence. 

As  the  plan  proposed  to  include  only  the  orphan 
children  of  parents  who  had  been  members  of  the 
church,  Mrs.  Royal  felt  deeply  interested  in  the 
subject;  and  as  the  meetings  called  for  the  consi 
deration  and  adoption  of  measures  for  carrying 
into  effect  what  had  been  proposed,  were  open  to 
all  the  members,  she  attended  them,  and  made  her 
self  clearly  conversant  with  every  plan  and  propo 
sition  in  their  minutest  details. 


SPIRITUAL   PRIDE.  237 

Things  had  progressed  as  far  as  the  appointment 
of  lady  managers,  who  had  chosen  Mrs.  Hartman 
as  President.  At  the  minister's  suggestion — he 
understood  Mrs.  Royal  a  great  deal  better  than  did 
Mrs.  Hartman — the  poor  widow  was  elected  to 
serve  as  a  manager  in  the  Board,  much  to  the  an 
noyance  of  the  wealthy  member,  who  really  felt  the 
appointment  as  a  kind  of  degradation  to  herself 
and  others ;  and,  for  a  time,  actually  debated  the 
question  whether  she  should  not  resign,  and  let 
those  who  would  work  in  that  kind  of  humiliating 
association. 

At  the  first  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Managers, 
Mrs.  Hartman  submitted,  through  a  lady  present, 
who  went  with  her  in  all  things,  a  plan  for  organ 
izing  the  Home.  According  to  this  plan,  a  house 
was  to  be  rented  and  placed  in  charge  of  a  Matron, 
into  whose  care  the  children  of  the  institution  were 
to  be  given.  A  Yisiting  Committee  were  to  have 
the  supervision  and  direction  of  affairs  at  the  Home. 
Then  followed  a  detailed  plan  of  discipline  and 
management,  in  which  the  children  were  considered 
with  about  as  much  human  regard  and  motherly 
tenderness,  as  if  they  had  been  mere  animals,  with 
only  animal  needs.  This  plan  looked  well  enough 


238  STEPS  TOWAKDS   HEAVEN, 

on  the  surface,  but  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  Royal,  made 
clear  by  love  for  her  own  precious  little  ones,  pene 
trated  far  below  the  surface.  In  imagination,  she 
saw  them  subjected  to  all  the  rigid  requirements 
set  forth  in  the  plan  of  organization,  and  her  heart 
sickened  at  the  picture.  She  waited  anxiously  to 
hear  some  modifications  suggested ;  but  only  words 
of  approval  were  uttered. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  said,  at  length,  speaking  for  the 
first  time — 

Mrs.  Hartman  looked  really  surprised,  and  even 
frowned.  It  was  presumption  enough  for  Mrs. 
Royal  to  take  her  place  in  the  Board  ;  but  to  ven 
ture  her  opinions  there,  was  going  a  little  beyond 
decorum. 

"  Perhaps,"  suggested  Mrs.  Royal,  "  it  may  help 
us  in  this  matter,  if  we  think  of  our  own  children, 
and  then  seek  to  surround  the  motherless  little  ones, 
our  good  will  designs  protecting  from  evil  and  Svif- 
ferings,  with  some  of  the  comforts  and  pleasures 
that  we  could  ask  for  them,  if  in  like  manner  de 
prived  of  our  love  and  care." 

"  Don't  concern  yourself  on  that  head,"  said  the  * 
lady  chairman,  with  cold  dignity,  and  a  look  of 
reproof.     "  We  are  Christians,  and  expect  to  do 


SPIRITUAL   PKIDE.  239 

right.  Damask  curtains,  and  velvet  furniture,  our 
plan  certainly,  does  not  embrace.  But  simple  ne 
cessaries,  and  arrangements  for  health,  will  be 
provided  amply." 

The  contrast  of  spirit  and  personal  bearing  be 
tween  the  two  women,  was  too  marked  not  to  make 
its  impression  on  the  minds  of  the  ladies  present. 

"  These,  of  course,  are  not  contemplated,"  calmly 
replied  Mrs.  Royal.  "  But,  as  I  have  intimated,  it 
will  help  us  in  the  right  establishment  of  this 
Home  for  motherless  children,  if  we  feel  as  mothers 
in  all  we  do  and  provide.  Now,  you  have  heard 
the  plan  of  organization  read,  with  all  the  details  to 
be  carried  out  by  the  Matron  in  charge.  It  sounds 
very  well — is  taking  and  specious.  But  let  us  go 
down  to  the  particulars,  and  take  down  with  us  the 
tender  little  ones  we  have,  and  ask  ourselves,  if  we 
could  leave  them  in  the  iron  boundaries  of  such 
a  discipline^  without  a  shiver  in  every  heart-string? 
No,  my  sisters,  we  could  not !  All  babes  are  alike 
precious  in  the  eyes  of  God.  Yours,  mine,  and  the 
babes  of  the  sad  pauper  who  dies  in  the  almshouse. 
And  they  are  alike  tender,  and  would  be  as  hu 
manely  cared  for,  if  the  hearts  of  Christian  men 
and  women  were  filled  with  the  divine  love  of  Him 


240  STEPS   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 

who  said, '  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto  me, 
and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.'  Let  us  not,  then,  bind  ourselves,  at  this 
early  stage  of  proceedings,  to  any  fixed  discipline 
for  the  Home  we  are  about  to  establish  ;  but,  first, 
select  the  right  woman  for  Matron,  if  such  a  one 
can  be  found,  and  leave  a  great  many  little  things 
to  her  loving  heart,  and  wise  perception.  Pardon 
me,  sisters,  for  saying  so  much.  But,  my  heart  is 
in  this  thing." 

There  was  a  quiver  of  feeling  in  the  voice  01 
Mi's.  Royal,  as  she  closed  and  sat  down,  that 
touched  more  than  one  who  had  listened  to  her 
earnest  appeal. 

"  You  have  heard  the  plan  of  organization,"  said 
Mrs.  Hartman,  with  something  of  contempt  in  her 
voice.  "  Shall  the  vote  on  it  now  be  taken  ?" 

She  paused,  and  looked  from  face  to  face.  A 
feeble  "Aye" — "Aye" — was  heard  from  two  voices. 
Then  all  was  still.  Mrs.  Royal's  words  had  made 
no  light  impression.  A  lady,  whose  social  position 
and  influence  in  the  church  was  in  no  respect  infe 
rior  to  that  of  Mrs.  Hartman,  now  arose  and  said — 

"  Our  good  sister  Royal  has  spoken  well.  As 
mothers,  let  us  give  a  portion  of  true  motherly  love 


SPIRITUAL    PRIDE.  241 

to  the  poor  little  ones  we  seek  to  benefit.  We 
need  not  rob  our  own  children  in  doing  this ;  for 
God  will  fill  our  hearts  even  fuller  of  love  for  them. 
I  agree  with  sister  Royal,  that  much  depends  upon 
the  character  of  the  Matron  we  select.  She  should, 
herself,  be  a  mother ;  a  wise,  loving,  tender  mother. 
But,  where  are  we  to  find  such  a  one  ?" 

The  lady's  eyes  turned,  by  an  almost  involuntary 
movement,  towards  Mrs.  Royal ;  and  others  looked 
in  the  same  direction.  There  seemed  to  be  a  com 
mon  perception  in  the  minds  of  a  number,  that  she 
was  just  the  woman  for  the  place. 

"  Sister  Royal  has  just  said,"  continued  the  lady, 
"  that  her  heart  is  in  this  thing.  Why  may  not 
her  hands  be  engaged  in  it,  also  ?" 

She  paused  again.  Mrs.  Hartman's  face  flushed, 
and  she  moved  in  her  chair,  uneasily.  Her  whole 
manner  repelled  the  idea.  The  way  in  which  Mrs. 
Royal  received  the  suggestion,  showed  that  a 
thought  of  such  a  thing  had  never  crossed  her 
mind.  She  was  startled  and  embarrassed. 

"What  say  you?"  the  lady  addressed  Mrs. 
Royal. 

"  I  can  say  nothing,"  was  the  poor  woman's  an 
swer  ;  "  because,  in  the  first  place,  I  have  not  given 

11 


242  STEPS   TOWARDS    IIEAVEN. 

the  subject  a  thought;  and,  in  the  second  place, 
circumstances  do  not  warrant  its  consideration  now. 
Neither  you  nor  I  would  be  in  freedom.  But,  as 
my  name  has,  most  unexpectedly,  been  used  in 
this  connection,  and  as  no  further  proceedings  can 
go  on  unembarrassed,  while  I  remain,  with  permis 
sion  of  the  President,  I  will  retire." 

Mrs.  Hartman  gave  a  stately  assenting  inclina 
tion  of  her  head,  and  Mrs.  Royal  promptly  with 
drew. 

"  She  is  not  the  woman  for  that  place,"  said  Mrs. 
Hartman,  in  a  very  decided  manner. 

"  She  shall  never  fill  it  with  my  consent,"  chimed 
in  the  lady,  who  had  offered  the  plan  of  organi 
zation. 

"  Kor  with  mine,  either,"  said  the  one  who  had 
suggested  the  name  of  Mrs.  Royal,  "if  there  is 
anything  in  her  character  or  disposition  that  would 
unfit  her  for  so  important  a  position.  "We  must 
have  the  right  person,  and,  in  order  to  secure  this, 
must  act  without  fear  or  favor." 

"  My  own  view  of  the  case,"  remarked  another 
of  the  Managers,  "  as  far  as  I  can  see,  Mrs.  Royal 
is  just  the  woman  we  are  in  search  of;  though  I 
should  not  have  thought  of  proposing  her ;  nor  am 


SPIRITUAL   PRIDE.  243 

I  at  all  certain  that  she  will  undertake  so  impor 
tant  a  duty.  My  own  impression  is,  that  her  health 
is  too  feeble." 

"It  is  just  what  she  wants  to  give  her  renewed 
health,"  said  another.  "  She  is  killing  herself  with 
confinement  over  the  needle.  Take  her  out  of 
her  present  life,  and  give  her  one  of  more 
scope,  and  increased  activity  of  mind  and  body, 
and,  my  word  for  it,  you  will  add  ten  years  to  her 
life.  Leave  her  where  she  is,  and  in  less  than  half 
of  that  period,  you  will  be  called  on  to  receive  her 
orphans  into  your  Home." 

"  Then  have  we  not  a  double  duty  before  us  ?" 
queried  the  member  who  had  brought  the  name  of 
Mrs.  Royal  before  the  meeting.  "  And,  indeed,  is 
not  Providence  leading  us  into  the  right  way.  He 
will  so  lead  us,  if  we,  in  heart,  desire  to  accomplish 
the  good  thing  now  in  our  minds.  Suppose,  with 
Mrs.  Royal  in  view,  we  appoint  a  committee  of 
conference  with  our  minister.  He  knows  her  bet 
ter,  perhaps,  than  any  one  of  us." 

"Not  better  than  I  do,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Hart- 
man. 

" First,  then,". answered  the  lady  to  this,  "let  us 
hear  our  President.  She  is  not  in  favor  of  Mrs 


244  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

.Royal.  Of  course,  she  must  know  something,  that, 
in  her  mind,  constitutes  disqualification.  She  may 
give  information  that  will  enable  us  to  decide  at  once, 
If  Mrs.  Eoyal  is  unfitted  for  the  place  of  Matron, 
I  am  the  last  one  to  advocate  her  appointment." 

Thus  appealed  to,  Mrs.  Hartman  could  not  hold 
back.  Yet,  what  had  she  to  say  ?  What  had  she 
to  allege  against  Mrs.  Royal?"  She  searched 
along  memory's  quickly-turned  pages,  but  no  perti 
nent  facts  were  disclosed. 

"  She'll  give  you  trouble,  take  my  word  for  it, 
if  you  make  this  appointment,"  said  Mrs.  Hartman, 
with  ill-concealed  unkindness  of  feeling. 

"I  have  known  Mrs.  Royal  for  a  good  many 
years,"  was  the  answer  of  a  lady  to  this,  "  and  I 
have  seen  nothing  in  her,  during  all  that  time, 
which  has  left  an  unfavorable  impression.  She  ia 
a  humble-minded  Christian." 

"  Humble  minded !"  echoed  Mrs.  Hartman. 
"  She  is  anything  but  that.  Once  she  did  sewing 
for  my  family ;  but,  her  free,  presuming  way  of 
putting  herself  on  an  equality  with  me,  was  more 
than  I  could  stand.  So  I  changed  my  seamstress. 
Humble-minded,  indeed !  She  gave  evidence  of 
tftat  to-day,  I  think." 


SPIRITUAL   TKIDE.  24:5 

"  "We  are  getting  rather  ahead  of  our  work,"  sug 
gested  a  member.  "  The  question  really  before  us 
is,  a  consideration  of  the  plan  for  organizing  the 
Home.  With  permission,  I  would  move  the  ap 
pointment  of  a  committee  of  three  to  consider  that 
plan,  and  to  confer,  at  the  same  time,  with  our 
minister." 

This  motion  was  seconded,  and  carried  without 
debate. 

"I  now  move,"  said  the  lady,  "that  the  sub 
ject  of  a  Matron  be  referred  to  the  same  com 
mittee." 

This  was  also  seconded,  and  carried. 

"  How  shall  that  committee  be  appointed  ?"  in 
quired  Mrs.  Hartman. 

"  I  nominate  Mrs.  "Wilkins,"  said  a  lady.  Mrs. 
WTlkins  was  the  member  who  had  suggested  Mrs. 
Royal  as  the  right  person  for  Matron. 

"  I  nominate  Mrs.  Hartman,"  said  another. 

"  Mrs.  Armour,"  said  a  third. 

No  further  nominations  being  made,  a  vote  was 
taken,  and  the  ladies  mentioned,  elected  to  serve 
on  this  important  committee. 

The  first  impulse  of  Mrs.  Hartman  was  to  decline 
the  appointment.  But  a  feeling  of  opposition  to 


246  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

Mrs.  Royal,  and  a  wish  to  prevent  her  election  to 
the  office  of  Matron  evercame  this  impulse. 

"  She  will  never  be  the  Matron  of  that  Home." 
she  said,  resolutely,  to  herself,  as  she  walked  away 
from  the  meeting,  "  I'll  compass  heaven  and  earth 
to  circumvent  the  scheme.  Mrs.  Royal !" 

There  was  a  feeling  of  bitter  contempt  in  the 
heart  of  the  lady. 

"To  set  herself  up  to  oppose  and  criticise  my 
plan  of  organizing  the  Home ;  and  to  intimate  that 
there  was  in  it  no  Christian  or  motherly  spirit! 
Humph!  She  expects  her  young  hopefuls  to  be 
sent  there  before  long,  and  wants  damask  cur 
tains  and  velvet  furniture.  She's  got  above  her 
self." 

In  this  spirit,  Mrs.  Hartman  returned  from  the 
meeting  called  to  organize  one  of  the  purest  chari 
ties  in  which  the  heart  can  engage.  On  her  way 
home,  it  occurred  to  her  that,  as  she  had  great  in 
fluence  with  the  minister,  the  first  and  best  move 
for  her  was  to  see  him  before  any  other  membei  of 
the  Board  of  Managers,  and  get  him  committed  to 
her  views.  So  she  turned  aside  and  called  upon 
the  clergyman. 

"  Well,"  said  she  familiarly,  and  with  some  ear- 


SPIRITUAL   PltlDE.  247 

nestness  of  manner,  as  soon  as  she  was  seated  with 
him,  "  we  have  had  our  meeting." 

"  For  organizing  the  Children's  Home  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  You  are  moving  in  the  right  direction.  God's 
tenderest  love  is  towards  little  children ;  and  if  we 
care  for  them  in  the  right  spirit,  God  will  care  for 
us.  If  even  the  giving  of  so  small  a  thing  as  a  cup 
of  -cold  water  does  not  lose  its  reward,  how  much 
of  blessings  may  we  not  call  down  upon  our  souls 
by  enlarging  our  charites." 

Mrs.  Hartman  did  not  respond  with  warmth  to 
these  sentiments.  She  felt  a  little  embarrassed,  for 
the  minister's  words  had  sent  a  gleam  of  light  into 
certain  corners  of  her  mind  where  dusty  cobwebs 
hung. 

"There  has  been  a  committee  of  conference  ap 
pointed,"  she  remarked. 

"  Ah !     Conference  with  whom  ?" 

"  "With  /ourseli" 

"  Indeed.     On  what  subject  ?" 

"  We  wish  to  submit  our  plan  of  organization ; 
and  also  to  consult  you  about  a  Matron,  in  whose 
care  the  children  may  be  placed." 

"  Important  questions  to  consider,"  said  the  min- 


248  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

ister.  Has  any  one  been  suggested  as  worthy  to 
occupy  the  post  of  Matron  ?" 

"  Some  one  named  Mrs.  Koyal,"  replied  the  lady. 
Ehere  were  rejection  and  contempt  in  her  manner 

"  The  very  person  I  have  had  in  my  mind's  eye 
from  the  beginning,"  said  the  minister.  "  If  sister 
Royal  will  accept  the  place  there  is  no  need  to 
seek  further." 

"  Oh,  there's  no  fear  as  to  that,"  answered  Mrs. 
Hartman,  with  ill-suppressed  chagrin.  "  She'll 
jump  at  it." 

"Then  you  may  consider  yourselves,  or  rather 
the  motherless  children  who  are  to  have  care,  pro 
tection,  and  love,  as  most  fortunate.  Sister  Koyal 
is  a  true  Christian  woman." 

Mrs.  Hartman's  feelings  were  thrown  into  a  state 
of  fresh  disturbance.  "Is  it  possible,"  she  said 
within  herself,  "  that  I  am  to  be  over-ridden  and 
circumvented  in  this  matter  !" 

"  Perhaps,"  she  suggested,  "  I  may  have  enjoyed 
better  opportunities  for  close  observation  than  you 
possess." 

"  Not  at  all  improbable,"  returned  the  minister. 
"  And  as  it  is  plain  that  you  do  not  favor  the  selec 
tion  of  Mrs.  Royal,  I  hope  you  will  speak  out 


SPIRITUAL   PRIDE.  2i9 

freely,  and  state  your  objections  in  all  candor.  In 
this  matter,  we  are  not  to  consult  private  feelings 
or  prejudices,  but  to  look  to  the  good  of  those  little 
ones  intrusted  to  our  care  by  God." 

"  In  the  first  place,"  said  Mrs.  Hartman,  in  reply, 
"  she  is  above  herself.  She  doesn't  know  how  to 
keep  her  place  now  ;  and  therefore,  it  is  plain,  that 
if  elevated  to  so  important  a  trust,  she  will  be  for 
ever  intruding  her  own  opinions,  and  insisting  on 
her  own  views  of  things,  and  so  give  us  endless 
trouble.  Why,  this  very  afternoon,  the  moment  a 
carefully-digested  plan  of  organizing  the  Home  was 
offered  for  acceptance,  she,  and  she  only,  made  op 
position." 

"  On  what  ground  ?"  asked  the  minister. 

"  Oh,  I  can  hardly  remember  now.  Some  ab 
surd  objection,  I  believe,  about  the  way  in  which 
the  children  were  to  be  cared  for.  She  wanted 
damask  curtains,  velvet  furniture,  and  all  that,  for 
them,  if  I  understood  the  drift  of  her  remarks.  It 
was  a  mistake  ever  to  have  put  her  upon  the  Board 
of  Management ;  and  we  shall  have  trouble  so  long 
as  she  is  there.  I,  for  one,  don't  intend  bemoaning 
myself  in  any  controversies  with  her ;  and  if  she 
holds  her  place  in  the  Board,  and  is  as  forward  as 
11* 


250  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

she  was  to  day  at  all  of  our  meetings,  I  shall  re 
sign." 

The  minister's  aspect  became  grave.  He  looked 
down  deeper  into  the  lady's  heart  than  she 
imagined,  and  saw  that  pride  was  at  work  far 
more  actively  than  a  spirit  of  unselfish  benevo 
lence." 

"  She  shall  never  be  the  Matron,  with  my  con 
sent."  Mrs.  Hartman  drew  up  her  head  in  proud 
self-consciousness. 

"  Nor  with  mine,"  answered  the  minister,  "  un 
less  eminently  qualified  for  the  office." 

"  That  she  is  not,"  was  the  lady's  positive  assev 
eration. 

"  I  am  afraid,  sister  Hartman,"  said  the  minis 
ter,  after  musing  for  a  little  while,  "  that  you 
have  permitted  some  prejudice  to  creep  into  your 
mind." 

"  Oh,  no !"  Mrs.  Hartman  flushed  a  little,  bri 
dled  a  little,  and  looked  a  little  dignified. 

"  Our  hearts  are  very  deceitful,  sister,"  there 
was  a  kind  smile  on  the  minister's  face,  and  a  tone 
of  interest  in  his  voice — "  '  Deceitful,'  the  Bible  tells 
us,  'and  desperately  wicked.'  "We  must  watch, 
therefore,  lest  its  natural  inclinations  lead  us  astray. 


SPIRITUAL   PKIDE.  251 

I  have  already  seen,  that  you  were  annoyed  at  the 
election  of  Mrs.  Royal  to  a  place  in  the  manage 
ment  of  this  proposed  Home;  and  I  think,  if  I 
may  speak  plainly  to  you  on  the  subject,  as  is  my 
duty,  that  I  have  penetrated  the  reason  thereof. 
But  before  going  a  step  further,  let  me  ask,  my 
sister,  whether  you  can  bear  the  truth,  if  in  that 
truth  should  come  to  you  an  accusation  of  wrong, 
both  in  feeling  and  conduct?" 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  perfect ;  I  am  only  human,"  said 
Mrs.  Hartman,  in  reply,  her,  manner  becoming 
much  disturbed. 

"  God  looks  into  our  very  thoughts ;  yea,  and 
below  these,  to  the  secert  impulses  of  feeling  that 
quicken  them  into  life,"  remarked  the  teacher,  im 
pressively.  "  He  knows  us  better  than  we  know 
ourselves.  He  is  not  a  respecter  of  persons,  nor  a 
regarder  of  position  or  worldly  influence.  Hath  he 
not  chosen  the  poor  of  this  world,  rich  in  faith,  and 
heirs  of  the  kingdom  ?  Are  not  all  little  children 
precious  in  his  sight  ?" 

The  minister  paused,  and  the  eyes  of  his  listener 
fell  beneath  his  earnest  look. 

"  Sister  Hartman,"  resumed  the  minister  impres 
sively,  "I  fear  that  th?  earthly  good  things  poured 


252  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

so  bountifully  into  your  lap  by  a  kind  Providence, 
have  been  regarded  as  evidences  of  superior  good 
ness  on  your  part ;  and  that  you  have  suffered  that 
dangerous  enemy,  spiritual  pride,  to  creep  in  and 
blind  you  to  real  good  in  others,  who  walk  in  hum 
bler  paths.  I  know  Mrs.  Royal  well.  For  years  I 
have  noted  her  incomings  and  her  outgoings.  I 
have  seen  her  in  the  midst  of  sore  trials,  and  under 
the  pressure  of  heavy  burdens.  Yet,  was  she  al 
ways  patient,  kind,  enduring  and  self-denying. 
Steadily  has  she  moved  onwards,  keeping  the  quiet 
tenor  of  her  way ;  faithful  to  all  duties ;  even- 
tempered  ;  unobtrusive,  yet  never  losing  her  wo 
manly  self-respect.  In  a  word,  Mrs.  Hartman,  her 
life,  as  I  have  read  it,  and  my  opportunities  have 
been  large,  has  been  the  life  of  a  Christian.  Can 
more  be  asked  ?" 

"  I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Hartman,  not  disposed  to 
let  her  minister  have  it  all  his  own  way,  "  that  for 
a  woman  in  her  station,  Mrs.  Royal  is  entirely  too 
forward.  She  meets  you,  with  the  equal  air  of  any 
lady  in  the  land.  And  yet  she  is  only  a  sewing-wo 
man.  I  quit  giving  her  work,  on  this  very  account. 
Her  manner  always  annoyed  me.  Why,  she  would 
'sister  Hartman'  me,  with  the  sewing  in  her  hand  !" 


SPIRITUAL   PRIDE.  253 

"  Is  that  so  ?"  asked  the  minister,  in  a  tone  of 
surprise. 

"  Indeed  it  is  so !"  replied  Mrs.  Hartman,  en 
tirely  mistaking  the  tenor  of  her  minister's  thoughts. 
"And  it  was  very  annoying.  She  did  it  once, 
before  a  lady  visitor,  and  I  was  mortified  to  death 
about  it.  I  made  up  my  mind,  then,  that  she  and 
I  would  have  to  walk  by  different  ways  through 
the  world ;  and  it  has  been  so  ever  since." 

"  There  is  only  one  safe  way  through  the  world, 
Mrs.  Hartman,"  said  the  minister,  "  and  by  that 
way  all  must  go  who  expect  to  gain  heaven  at  the 
journey's  end.  Sister  Royal,  I  think,  is  in  the 
right  way — the  way  of  duty,  self-denial, 
and  humility.  You,  I  fear,  have  wandered  a  little." 

"  Me  !"  Mrs.  Hartman  felt  this  to  be  almost  an 
outrage.  Mrs.  Royal  on  the  road  to  heaven,  and 
she  astray  !  Now,  that  was  going  too  far. 

"All  souls,  remember,"  said  the  minister,  with 
impressive  force,  "  are  equal  in  the  sight  of  God, 
who  never  regards  the  worldly  position  of  any  one. 
The  wife  of  Edward  Hartman  is  no  more  in  His 
eyes,  than  the  humble  widow  who  makes  her  gar 
ments  ;  nay,  noi  of  so  much  value,  if  the  humble 
widow  be  richer  than  she  in  the  possession  of  hea- 


254:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

venly  graces.  To  think  thus,  may  hurt  the  low 
false  pride  of  our  evil  hearts ;  but,  if  we  assume  to 
be  Christian  men  and  women,  let  us  conform  our 
lives  to  the  pure  doctrines  of  the  Gospel.  If  we  do 
not,  our  religion  is  vain,  and  we  are  deceiving  our 
selves." 

Before  Mrs.  Hartman  retired  from  the  minister's 
she  understood  the  true  quality  of  her  affections  a 
great  deal  better  than  when  she  called  in  order  to 
commit  him,  if  possible,  to  her  side  of  the  Matron 
question.  He  had  faithfully  done  his  duty  by  her, 
influential  as  she  was  in  the  church,  and  dangerous 
as  an  opponent ;  and  there  was  just  good  enough 
left  in  her  to  react  under  the  probe  of  his  sharply 
cutting  words.  He  called  upon  her,  early  the  next 
morning,  in  some  concern  of  mind  for  the  result  of 
his  plain  speaking.  Mrs.  Hartman  was  sober  and 
reserved,  but  not  repellent ;  and  there  was  about 
her  something  of  the  air  of  one  who  had  suffered 
humiliation  of  spirit. 

At  the  next  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Managers-, 
the  minister  was  present  by  invitation.  Mrs. 
Royal  did  not  attend.  When  the  name  of  the  poor 
sewing-woman  was  introduced  in  connection  with 
the  office  of  Matron  for  the  Orphans'  Home,  only 


SPIRITUAL    PRIDE.  255 

a  feeble  opposition  was  made  on  the  part  of  one  lady. 
In  contrast  to  this,  was  testimony  in  her  favor  of 
the  strongest  character — so  strong,  that  Mrs.  Hart- 
man  felt  rebuked  by  its  accumulation  in  the  face 
of  her  previous  opposition.  When  the  vote  was 
taken  on  a  motion  to  fill  the  office  of  Matron,  not  a 
single  "  nay  "  was  heard. 

The  result  proved  the  wisdom  of  this  choice. 
The  Home  was  at  once  organized,  and  Mrs.  Royal 
placed  in  charge  of  the  motherless  little  ones  who 
were  gathered  within  its  sheltering  walls.  But,  it 
took  Mrs.  Hartman  a  long  time  to  get  wholly  re 
conciled.  She  still  held  her  place  as  President  of 

the  Board,  and  was  on  the  Yisiting  Committee ; 

. 
and  tried  to  feel  kindly  towards  Mrs.  Royal,  as  was 

her  duty  as  a  Christian  woman.  But  she  was  an 
noyed  when  the  Matron  assumed  to  differ  with  her 
in  anything  pertaining  to  the  children — the  more 
so,  as  it  almost  always  happened  that  the  other 
ladies  of  the  committee  saw  things  with  the 
Matron's  eyes  rather  than  with  hers.  There  was  a 
social  gulf  between  them,  which  Mrs.  Hartman 
•would  not  have  passed,  and  every  seeming  attempt 
on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Royal  to  bridge  it  over,  was 
felt  as  a  presumption  that  must  be  repelled. 


256  BTEP8   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 

But,  self-discipline  was  going  on.  Mrs.  Hartman 
had  some  earnestness  of  purpose,  and  some  yearn 
ings  after  a  Christian  life.  The  discipline  of  time 
and  circumstances  was  doing  its  work,  and  the 
Divine  Providence,  which  is  intimate  with  every 
one  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  so  reacting  upon 
her,  at  every  step  of  her  way,  that,  through  pain  of 
mind  and  pain  of  body,  she  was  becoming  purified 
and  meet  for  the  kingdom. 

Ah !  how  full  of  Mrs.  Hartmans  are  all  of  our 
churches ;  and  how  severe  must  be  the  humiliating 
discipline  that  is  to  make  them  lowly  in  mind  as 
true  disciples !  It  is  hard,  very  hard,  for  human 
pride  to  bend  its  neck  for  the  Gospel  yoke.  Hard 
for  the  lofty  to  sit  down,  side  by  side  with  the 
humble  follower  of  the  meek  and  lowly  Saviour. 
And  yet,  to  be  greatest  of  all  is  to  be  servant  of  all. 
Alas !  with  what  darkness  of  interior  vision  do  we 
read  the  doctrines  of  Life  ! 


ATJNT5T   JONES.   THE   PEACE   MATTKTR..  257 


XXIII. 
AUNTY  JOKES,  THE  PEACEMAKER. 

AUNTY  JONES — she  was  called  "Aunty"  by  half 
the  village,  old  and  young,  though  she  claimed 
with  no  individual  in  Bloomingdale  a  blood  rela 
tionship. — Aunty  Jones  was  sitting  by  the  window 
of  her  neat  little  cottage  home,  when  a  neighbor 
entered  through  the  white-washed  gate,  and  came 
with  a  quick  step  along  the  flower-bordered  walk 
that  led  up  to  the  door. 

"Good  afternoon,  Aunty,"  said  she,  entering 
without  ceremony. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Mrs.  Blake !  How  are  all  at 
home  ?" 

" "Well,  thank  you.    How  are  you  to-day?" 
"  As  well  as  usual,  dear ;  take  a  chair." 
Mrs.  Blake  sat  down.    She  was  a  young  woman 
with  rather  a  smart  air,  and  free  manners.     Her 
eyns  were  black,  and  had  a  good  deal  of  latent  fire 


258  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

in  them.     After  a  few  remarks,  she  said,  with  con 
siderable  animation : 

"There's  trouble  between  Mrs.  Fry  and  Mrs. 
Lingen." 

"  Indeed !  I'm  sorry  for  that,"  said  Aunty  Jones, 
a  shade  of  regret  passing  over  her  countenance. 
"What's  the  matter?" 

"Mrs.  Fry  is  greatly  to  blame,"  said  Mrs.  Blake, 
"  and  I  don't  wonder  that  Mrs.  Lingen  is  angry.  I 
should  be  if  I  were  in  her  place." 

"What  has  happened  to  interrupt  the  good 
understanding  that  has  always  existed  between 
them  ?  They've  been  fast  friends  for  years." 

"I  know  they  have,"  answered  Mrs.  Blake. 
"  But  after  what  Mrs.  Fry  has  done,  it  is  impossible 
for  them  to  be  friends  any  longer." 

"What  has  she  done?"  Aunty  Blake  looked 
seriously  troubled. 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Mrs.  Blake,  speaking  in  her 
animated  way,  and  entering  with  much  feeling 
into  the  relation  :  "  Willy  Lingen  was  over  at  Mrs. 
Fry's  this  morning,  playing  with  her  children 
The  little  folks  had  a  falling  out  about  something, 
as  children  will  fall  out,  you  know,  and  from 
angry  words  came  to  blows.  Hearing  the  noise 


AUNTY   JONES,    THE   PEACEMAKER.  259 

and  outcry  that  followed,  Mrs.  Fry  ran  out  the 
garden,  and,  in  a  fit  of  passion,  seized  Willy  Lingen 
by  the  hair,  and  boxed  his  ears  like  a  fury.  He, 
poor  child,  as  it  happened,  had  been  sick  all  last 
night  with  the  ear-ache,  and  the  side  of  his  face 
and  head  were  tender  as  a  boil,  and  badly  swollen. 
He  was,  in  consequence,  hurt  terribly.  Of  course, 
he  came  home  and  told  his  mother,  and,  of  course, 
she  was  outraged,  as  any  mother  would  be.  She 
didn't  stop  a  moment  for  reflection,  but  went,  in 
hot  haste,  over  to  Mrs.  Fry's,  and  gave  her  a  piece 
of  her  mind  in  about  the  plainest  kind  of  terms." 

"  Bad — bad — very  bad,"  said  Aunty  Jones,  shak 
ing  her  head. 

"I've  just  come  from  Mrs.  Lingen's,"  continued 
Mrs.  Blake ;  "  and,  I  can  tell  you,  she's  as  sharp  as 
an  awl  about  it — and  a  little  sharper.  Poor  Willy 
shows  signs  of  his  hard  treatment.  Dear  little 
fellow  1  It  made  my  blood  boil  when  his  mother 
told  me  of  the  cruel  way  in  which  he  had  been 
served.  Some  of  the  neighbors  blame  her  for  what 
she  said  to  Mrs.  Fry,  but  I  don't.  I  would  have 
said  as  much,  and,  maybe,  twice  as  much  more,  if 
I  had  been  in  her  place.  Beat  a  neighbor's  child 
about  the  head,  and  pull  its  hair,  when  her  own 


260  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

brats,  in  all  probability,  were  most  to  blame !  Ac 
cording  to  Willy's  story,  he  was  only  defending 
himself  when  she  came  at  him  like  a  tiger." 

After  Mrs.  Blake  had  fully  informed  Aunty 
Jones  as  to  this  new  cause  of  excitement  in  the  vil 
lage,  she  bade  her  a  good  afternoon,  and  went  on 
her  gossiping  round  of  visits.  Not  long  after  her 
departure,  Aunty  Jones  had  another  call.  It  was 
from  a  neighbor  in  the  opposite  interest — a  friend 
to  Mrs.  Fry,  whose  house  she  had  left  a  little  while 
before.  Her  version  of  the  affair  differed  consider 
ably  from  that  given  by  Mrs.  Blake,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  the  part  about  Mrs.  Lingen's  indignation 
visit  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Fry — which  was  given 
with  some  added  incidents  and  a  higher  coloring. 

"  Mrs.  Fry  did  just  as  I  would  have  done,  had  I 
been  in  her  place,"  said  she,  warmly.  "  The  chil 
dren  were  playing  together,  when  Mrs.  Fry  heard 
her  little  Katy  scream  out  suddenly ;  running  into 
the  garden,  she  saw  Willy  Lingen  with  her  finger 
in  his  mouth.  He  got  angry  with  her  about  some 
thing,  and  snapped  at  her  finger  like  a  dog !  Mrs. 
Fry  caught  hold  of  him,  and  ordered  him  to  let  go 
instantly.  But  the  young  savage  held  on,  and  she 
did  just  as  I  or  you  would  have  done,  boxed  his 


AUNTY   JONES,   THE   1'EACEMAKJSK.  281 

ears  until  he  was  glad  to  let  go ;  when  he  ran  off 
home,  bellowing  like  a  calf,  and  told  his  mother 
some  lie  about  it." 

"  Bad— bad — very  bad !"  Aunty  Jones  shook  her 
head  as  before,  and  looked  quite  sorrowful  about 
the  matter. 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  neighbor,  "  they  will  be 
bitter  enemies  till  they  die.  Quarrels  about  chil 
dren  are  generally  of  the  worst  kind." 

"I  hope  not,"  said  Aunty  Jones.  "We  must 
forgive,  if  we  would  be  forgiven." 

"They'll  never  forgive  each  other.  How  can 
they  ?"  remarked  the  neighbor.  "  If  you'd  heard 
the  way  in  which  Mrs.  Lingen  talked  to  Mrs.  Fry, 
you'd  see  that  it  was  impossible.  Mrs.  Lingen  is 
not  the  woman  to  make  apologies ;  and  it  would 
take  a  book-full  to  satisfy  the  lady  she  was  pleased 
to  outrage  by  all  sorts  of  disgraceful  epithets; 
even  going  so  far  as  to  throw  up  things  that  hap 
pened  long  before  Mrs.  Fry  was  married." 

"  I'm  very  sorry."  Aunty  Jones  had  no  words 
to  utter  but  words  of  regret. 

"  Do  you  blame  Mrs.  Fry  for  being  outraged  ?" 
The  neighbor  tried  to  get  Aunty  Jones  committed 
to  her  side  of  the  question. 


262  STEPS   TOWAED8   IIEAVEN. 

"In  all  quarrels  among  neighbors,  there  is  usually 
faults  on  both  sides."  This  was  as  far  as  she  would 

g°- 

"  I  can't  see  what  fault  there  was  on  the  side  of 

Mrs.  Fry,"  was  answered  with  considerable  warmth. 
"  Suppose  it  had  been  your  child  instead  of  Mrs. 
Fry's,  wouldn't  you  have  boxed  the  ears  of  the 
young  savage  who  was  biting  her  finger,  to  compel 
him  to  let  go  ?  My  word  for  it,  you  would,  Aunty 
Jones ;  you  are  not  a  stock  or  a  stone." 

But  Aunty  Jones  admitted  no  imaginary  action 
of  her  own,  by  way  of  justification  in  the  case  of 
Mrs.  Fry.  She  had  only  regrets  to  utter.  Before 
night,  several  neighbors  called  in  to  talk  the  mat 
ter  over  with  Aunty  Jones,  each  one  having  a 
slightly  different  version  of  the  affair,  and  each 
being  warmly  committed  to  one  side  or  the  other. 
Mrs.  Frick  always  knew  that  "Willy  Lingen  was 
one  of  the  worst  children  in  Bloomingdale,  and  as 
for  his  mother,  it  was  only  necessary  to  look  into 
her  face  to  see  that  she  was  a  Tartar.  For  her 
part,  she  fully  justified  Mrs.  Fry,  and  had  told  her 
so.  Mrs.  Camp  had  seen  Mrs.  Lingen,  and  exam 
ined  poor,  dear  "Willy's  head.  None  but  a  savage, 
in  her  opinion,  could  have  so  cruelly  maltreated  a 


AUNTY   JONES,    T^E   PEACEMAKER.  263 

child.  It  was  well  known  that  Mrs.  Fry  was  a  wo 
man  of  most  ungovernable  temper,  and  beat  her 
own  children  awfully.  Indeed,  she  had  heard  it 
whispered — and  she  repeated  the  rumor  in  a  con 
fidential  whisper — that  she  had  even  struck  her 
husband  in  a  fit  of  passion. 

Aunty  Jones  was  grieved  to  the  heart.  To  all 
of  this  she  answered  but  little,  except  to  suggest 
that  there  must  be  exaggeration  on  both  sides,  and 
that  if  the  exact  truth  could  be  brought  to  the 
light,  it  would,  in  all  probability,  be  found,  that 
both  of  the  exasperated  mothers  had  been  excited 
into  a  blind  passion  by  falsehood,  over-acting,  or 
misrepresentation  on  the  part  of  the  children.  The 
two  neighbors,  so  suddenly  set  at  variance,  were, 
both  of  them,  her  warm  friends,  and  had  been  on 
terms  of  close  intimacy  with  each  other  for  years. 
Both  were,  in  the  main,  kind-hearted  and  right- 
minded  women ;  and  both  of  them,  Aunty  Jones 
believed,  would  soon  bo  sorry  for  what  they  had 
done,  and  ashamed  of  having  taken  counsel  of  pas 
sion.  She  was  the  peacemaker  of  Bloomingdale ; 
and  even  in  this  bad-looking  case,  was  soon  ponder 
ing  the  question  of  reconciliation. 

On  the  next  morning,  Aunty  Jones  went  over 


264:  STEPS   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 

early  to  see  Mrs.  Lingen.  She  had  thought  it  L<jst 
to  give  her  the  benefit  of  a  night's  sleep  on  the 
matter.  She  found  her  strongly  exasperated  against 
Mrs.  Fry.  "Willy's  inflamed  ear  was  shown  in 
triumphant  vindication  of  her  right  to  be  angry. 
Aunty  Jones  examined  the  ear,  but  could  not  find 
any  very  decided  marks  of  inflammation.  There 
was,  just  within  the  opening,  a  little  deeper  tinge, 
and  on  the  back  of  the  edr,  close  to  the  head,  a 
spot  of  darker  hue,  that,  if  she  saw  right,  came 
from  a  little  cluster  of  pimples.  Willy  had  all  the 
appearance  of  a  suffering  martyr,  as  Mrs.  Lingen 
exhibited  him  in  evidence  of  the  wrong  done  to  her 
mother's  heart,  and  in  justification  of  her  indignant 
assault  upon  Mrs.  Fry. 

"  Willy,"  said  Aunty  Jones,  as  he  stood  before 
her,  with  one  of  his  little  hands  held  in  one  of  hers, 
and  her  kind,  yet  earnest  eyes,  looking  right  into 
his — "Willy,  what  was  Katy  Fry  doing  to  you, 
when  you  got  her  finger  into  your  mouth  ?" 

Mrs.  Lingen  gave  a  start  at  this  question,  and 
Willy's  face  crimsoned.  A  glance  from  Aunty 
Jones  kept  the  mother  silent. 

"You  didn't  bite  Katy's  finger  hard,  I  hope, 
Willy?" 


AUNTY  JONES,  THE  PEACEMAKER.       265 

"  No  ma'am !"  "Willy's  face  was  redder  still,  as 
lie  made  this  admission. 

""What  made  you  bite  her  finger,  "Willy?"— 
Aunty  Jones  spoke  BO  very  kindly,  and  yet  BO 
earnestly,  keeping  the  child's  eyes  fixed  in  hers  all 
the  time  that  no  chance  was  left  for  anything  but 
truthful  answers. 

"  Because  she  was  trying  to  take  my  apple  from 
me,  and  wouldn't  let  go.  But  I  didn't  bite  it  hard, 
Aunty  Jones;  and  Mrs.  Fry  had  no  business  to 
box  me  on  my  sore  ear  as  she  did."  "Willy  closed 
this  defence  by  bursting  into  tears. 

Enough,  however,  had  been  elicited  to  place  the 
whole  matter  in  an  entirely  new  light  before  his 
mother's  eyes.  She  told  the  weeping  child  to  leave 
the  room,  and,  as  soon  as  he  had  done  so,  said  to 
her  visitor : 

"  This  is  all  new  to  me,  Aunty  Jones.  It  is  the 
first  intimation  I  have  had  of  any  finger-biting  in 
the  case." 

"  1  am  told,"  replied  Aunty  Jones,  "  that  "Willy 
bit  Katy's  finger  very  badly ;  and  that  Mrs.  Fry 
had  to  box  his  ears  several  times,  very  severely 
before  he  would  let  go.  If  this  is  the  case — and 
Willy  admits  that  he  did  bite  the  finger — can  you 

12 


266  STEPS   TOWAKDS   HEAVEN. 

greatly  wonder  at  Mrs.  Fry?  Keverse  the  case. 
Tliink  how  you  would  act,  if  you  were  to  find  a 
neighbor's  child  biting  "Willy's  finger,  and  your 
child  screaming  in  pain.  Would  you  stay  your 
hand  an  instant  ?" 

The  countenance  of  Mrs.  Lingen  fell.  All  indig 
nation  died  out  of  her  heart.  She  stood  rebuked 
in  the  presence  of  Aunty  Jones,  like  one  convicted 
of  a  great  wrong. 

"  Would  you,  Mrs.  Lingen?"  Aunty  Jones  pressed 
her  last  query. 

"  No,  not  for  an  instant !"  was  the  firm  reply. 

A  broad  smile  lit  up  the  fine  face  of  Aunty  Jones, 
as  she  reached  out  her  hand,  and  said : 

"  There  spoke  out  the  true  woman !  I  knew 
your  heart  was  in  the  right  place.  And  I  have 
not  lost  faith  in  Mrs.  Fry.  Neither  of  you  is  capa 
ble  of  wantonly  hurting  a  child — neither  of  wan 
tonly  outraging  the  other.  There  does  not  exist 
the  slightest  reason  why  you  should  not  be  friends 
as  of  old." 

"  Oh  yes,  there  does,"  was  firmly  answered. 

"What  reason?" 

"I  don't  believe  she  will  ever  forgive  me  for 
what  I  said  to  her,  yesterday,  in  the  heat  of  passion." 


AUNTY  JONES,   THE   PEACEMAKER.  267 

"  Yes,  she  will.  Leave  that  to  me.  When  she 
understands  how  the  matter  was  presented  to  your 
mind,  she  will  not  wonder  that  you  were  provoked ; 
and  the  slightest  apology  on  your  part,  will  make 
all  right  again." 

"  I  can't  believe  it,"  said  Mrs.  Lingen. 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,"  replied  Aunty  Jones,  confi 
dently. 

And,  in  less  than  an  hour  she  had  the  two  old 
friends  face  to  face  again,  bathed  in  tears  of  recon 
ciliation. 

Blessings  on  Aunty  Jones !  She  was  the  peace 
maker  of  Bloomingdale.  Neighbors  would  fall  out, 
and  busy-bodies  would  make  wider  every  breach ; 
but  Aunty  Jones  was  always  true  to  her  mission — 
always  on  hand  to  throw  oil  upon  the  troubled 
waves  of  passion.  She  knew  that  there  was  honor, 
and  truth,  and  right  purposes  in  every  heart,  as 
well  as  selfishness  and  blind  passion ;  and  her 
hands  never  rested  when  she  saw  the  latter  ob 
scuring  the  former,  until  the  dimming  veil  was  rent 
asunder. 

"Would  that  every  village  and  neighborhood  had 
its  Aunty  Jones. 


268  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 


XXIY. 
WHICH  SHALL  SEKVE? 

THERE  is  natural  life,  into  which  we  are  born 
naturally ;  and  there  is  spiritual  life,  which  has  its 
beginning  in  the  new  birth  of  divine  affections; 
and  the  problem  of  religion  is,  Which  shall  serve  ? 
Both  cannot  rule  in  the  mind:  one  must  be  ser 
vant  to  the  other.  The  natural  mind  must  give  up 
its  evil  inclinations,  in  obedience  to  the  higher  laws 
of  spiritual  life ;  or  the  spiritual  must  yield  to  the 
natural,  and  become  its  slave ;  and  then  the  man's 
last  state  is  worse  than  the  first. 

So  the  teacher  taught ;  and  with  the  sentiment 
clearly  discriminated  in  his  mind,  Mr.  Loring  took 
his  way  homeward  from  church,  pondering  the 
lesson  he  had  heard.  It  did  not  pass  from  his 
thoughts,  like  a  vision  of  the  night.  He  turned  it 
over  and  over,  and  viewed  it  from  all  sides ;  and  the 
longer  he  dwelt  upon  it,  the  more  palpable  it  became. 


WHICH    SHALL   SEBVE?  269 

"  So  here  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  religion, 
expressed  in  a  formula,"  he  said,  as  he  talked  with 
himself.  "  The  question  is,  Which  shall  rule,  and 
which  obey  ?  All  is  resolved  into  the  simplest  ele 
ments.  What  remains  beyond  is  to  discriminate 
between  the  natural  and  the  spiritual ;  and  on  this 
point  the  preacher's  instruction  was  clear.  '  The 
natural  man,'  said  he,  '  is  selfish,  proud,  cruel,  and 
revengeful ;  but  the  spiritual  man  is  a  lover  of  his 
neighbor,  whose  good  he  seeks ;  is  humble,  forgiv 
ing,  just,  and  self-denying.  There  is  not  much 
danger  of  a  mistake  here.  There  is  little  room  left 
for  any  confounding  of  ideas.  The  antithesis  is 
complete." 

Mr.  Loring  was  a  man  just  beginning  to  be  in  ear 
nest  on  the  subject  of  religion.  He  went  to  church, 
and  read  his  Bible  and  religious  books,  because 
he  wished  to  know  the  laws  of  spiritual  life.  He 
read  a  great  deal  that  was  mere  generalization,  and 
listened  to  a  great  deal  of  abstract  discussion  of 
theological  questions ;  but  these  did  not  help  him. 
He  wanted  the  thing  narrowed  down  to  a  simple 
formula,  suited  to  all  conditions  of  life,  and  ready 
for  use  at  any  and  all  times ;  and  he  had  it  now,  in 
the  proposition — Which  shall  serve  ? 


270  STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

On  Monday  morning,  Mr.  Loring  went  to  his 
store,  and  began  the  business  duties  of  another 
week.  He  was  a  man  of  clear  thought,  active 
will,  and  enduring  purpose.  Whatever  he  put  his 
hand  to  had  to  move.  He  generally  saw  right  to 
the  completion  of  a  thing,  and  worked  towards  that 
completion  by  the  quickest  means  and  the  readiest 
way.  It  was  this  element  in  his  character  that 
would  not  let  him  be  satisfied  with  any  vague, 
dark  things  in  religion.  He  wanted  no  "mys 
teries,"  but  a  light  set  on  a  bushel,  or  a  city  on  a 
hill. 

Among  the  business  letters  received  on  that  day 
was  one  from  a  southern  customer,  ordering  several 
bales  of  a  certain  kind  of  goods,  if  to  be  had  at  quo 
tations  of  a  specified  date,  the  latest  at  which  he 
had  received  the  prices  current  at  New  York. 
ISTow,  the  market  was  unchanged ;  but  Mr.  Loring 
knew  certain  holders  of  the  goods  who  had  recently 
suffered  a  heavy  loss,  and  were  not,  therefore,  in 
any  condition  to  carry  stock. 

"  I'll  make  something  handsome  out  of  this 
order,"  said  Mr.  Loring  to  himself,  in  an  animated 
way.  "  It  comes  in  the  nick  of  time.  Austin  & 
Ledon  are  in  a  corner,  and  to  make  a  sale  of  this 


WHICH    SHALL   SERVE?  271 

extent,  will  come  down  through  quite  a  range  of 
figures." 

So,  after  transacting  some  preliminary  business, 
Mr.  Loring,  quite  elated  in  mind  at  the  prospect  of 
so  profitable  an  operation,  left  his  place  of  business, 
and  went  to  the  store  of  Austin  &  Ledon.  In 
rather  an  indifferent  way — the  manner  assumed, 
of  course — he  asked  the  price  of  the  article  he  had 
come  prepared  to  buy. 

"  How  much  do  you  want?"  inquired  Mr.  Ledon, 
the  younger  partner  of  the  firm. 

"  That  will  depend  something  upon  the  price," 
answered  Mr.  Loring,  with  evasion. 

"  There  has  been  no  change  in  quotations  for 
some  weeks,  and  the  stock  in  first  hands  is  not 
large." 

"  Are  there  not  several  heavy  shipments  on  the 
way  ?"     Queried  Mr.  Loring. 
,  A  shadow  glided  across  the  face  of  Mr.  Ledon. 
Mr.  Loring  saw  it,  and  with  a  feeling  of  satis 
faction. 

"  I  have  not  heard  of  them,"  replied  Mr.  Ledon. 

"I  think,  on  inquiry,  that  you  will  find  my  inti 
mations  correct.  I  was  at  Baker  &  Brothers  yes 
terday,  and  noticed  a  pile  of  invoices  on  their  desk. 


272  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

The  steamer's  letters  had  just  arrived;  and  yon 
know  that  they  are  extensive  operators  in  the 
article." 

"  Yes ;  I  know."  There  was  a  shade  of  despond 
ency  in  the  tones  of  Mr.  Ledon. 

"I  will  take  twenty  bales,  if  I  can  get  them 
right,"  said  the  bargaining  purchaser. 

"  You  shall  have  them  right,"  was  the  emphatic 
answer.  "  Let  me  say  a  word  to  Mr.  Austin." 

After  a  brief  consultation  with  his  partner,  Mr. 
Ledon  returned  to  Mr.  Loring,  and  named  a  price 
which  was  at  least  five  per  cent,  below  the  regular 
quotations. 

But  Mr.  Loring  looked  grave,  and  shook  his  head. 
And  now,  the  senior  partner,  anxious  to  make  so  im 
portant  a  sale,  came  out  from  the  counting-room." 

"  Not  temptation  enough,"  said  Mr.  Loring,  ad 
dressing  himself  to  Mr.  Austin. 

"The  price  we  have  quoted  is  only  a  fraction- 
above  cost,"  replied  the  merchant.  "  Indeed,  when 
interest  and  storage  are  added,  the  margin  left  to  us 
will  be  scarcely  discernible." 

Now,  Mr.  Loring  had  fixed  in  his  mind  a  reduc 
tion  of  ten  per  cent,  below  quotations.  This  would 
give  him  a  clear  gain  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  dol 


WHICH   SHALL   SERVE?  273 

lars  besides  commissions.  Already,  in  fancy,  he 
had  added  that  sum  to  the  day's  earnings ;  and  to 
abate  a  single  dime  thereof  seemed  like  an  actual 
loss. 

"  I  think  I  had  better  hold  on  a  few  days,"  said 
he,  indifferently.  "The  present  rates  cannot  be 
sustained.  I  have  no  doubt,  but  that  Barker  & 
Brothers  have  large  invoices  on  the  way.  It  will 
be  safer  for  me  to  see  them  first,  at  any  rate." 

The  partners  glanced  at  each  other,  uneasily, 
then  drew  aside  and  talked  together  in  a  low  tone. 
Mr.  Loring  heard  the  words — 

"We  cannot  afford  to  lose  this  sale" — "Needs 
are  too  pressing  " — "  Shall  sustain  a  loss,  if  we 
recede  farther" — "Mustn't  let  him  go  to  Bar 
ker's." 

"  The  fact  is,  Mr.  Loring,"  said  Mr.  Austin,  the 
senior  partner,  speaking  in  a  sober,  yet  frank  way 
— "  Our  recent  heavy  loss  has  rather  tied  up  our 
hands,  and  cut  off  our  resources.  But  for  this,  we 
would  not  have  named  anything  below  market 
rates.  You  want  twenty  bales  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  would  take  twenty,  if  the  price  suited." 

Mr.  Austin  stood  in  thought  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  then  gave  a  price  that  exactly  suited  the  views 

12* 


274  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

of  Mr.  Loring,  who  ordered  the  goods  sent  to  his 
store. 

"That  will  do  for  one  transaction,"  said  the 
shrewd  merchant,  as  he  walked  back  to  his  place 
of  business.  "  I  can  afford  to  sit  with  idle  hands 
for  the  rest  of  the  day." 

After  the  pleasurable  excitement  occasioned  by 
this  piece  of  bargain-making  had  subsided,  Mr. 
Loring  was  conscious  of  an  uncomfortable  pressure 
on  his  feelings.  He  was  not  altogether  at  ease  in 
his  mind.  Something  had  jarred  the  machinery  ol 
his  life.  What  could  it  be  ? — from  whence  was  the 
element  of  disturbance?  What  was  its  nature? 
Mr.  Loring  turned  back  his  thoughts  upon  the 
morning's  incidents ;  but  failed  to  discover  the 
cause. 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  the  goods  bought  from 
Austin  &  Ledon  were  sent  in,  and  the  invoice 
laid  on  the  desk  of  Mr.  Loring.  As  his  eyes  rested 
on  the  footing  up,  and  he  made  a  hurried  calcula 
tion  of  his  profit  in  the  transaction,  he  felt  a 
renewed  glow  of  pleasure ;  but  this  soon  went 
down  again,  and  the  uncomfortable  feeling  re 
turned.  The  pressure  still  remained  at  the  close 
of  business  hours,  and  he  took  it  home  with  him. 


WHICH   SHALL   SERVE?  275 

"  "What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?"  he  said  within 
himself,  as  he  sat  alone,  after  tea,  in  anything  but 
a  pleasant  frame  of  mind.  "  I  have  no  cause  to 
complain  of  the  day's  business.  My  profit  has 
largely  exceeded  that  of  any  other  this  season." 

Then,  as  he  sat  musing,  his  thoughts  returned  to 
the  subject  which  had  so  much  interested  him  on 
the  day  before,  and  the  query,  "  Which  shall 
serve  ?"  again  arrested  his  attention. 

"Ah !  That  is  the  touch-stone,"  he  said.  "  Let 
me  examine  my  day's  work,  and  see  how  it  will 
bear  the  test." 

Of  course,  the  leading  transaction  came  up  first. 

"  Which  served  here,  the  spiritual  or  the  natu 
ral  ?"  He  asked  the  question  with  some  firmness. 

But,  there  was,  for  a  little  while,  a  bewilderment. 
He  could  not  see  clearly.  All  the  elements  of  his 
mind  were  thrown  into  temporary  confusion. 

"  There  is  a  divine  standard,"  he  said,  resolutely 
to  himself,  at  last,  "  and  the  quality  of  all  actions 
must  be  determined  by  this.  'As  ye  would  that 
men  should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them.' 
Did  I  observe  this  Golden  Eule  in  that  transaction? 
Let  me  reverse  the  positions  of  all  parties.  Ah, 
no  !  I  see  it  clearly  now.  I  would  not  have  thought 


276  STEPS   TOWAKDS   HEAVEN. 

it  right  in  Austin  &  Ledon  to  take  from  me  the 
fair  profit  on  my  goods,  because  a  necessity,  which 
I  could  not  shun,  placed  me  in  their  hands.  And 
now,  the  question  comes  up  again,  "  "Which  served 
here,  the  spiritual  or  the  natural  ?" 

Mr.  Loring  bowed  his  head  and  sat  musing  on 
the  proposition.  "  The  natural  man,"  so  his  thought 
run,  "  is  selfish,  proud,  and  cruel ;  the  spiritual 
man  a  lover  of  the  neighbor,  just  and  self-denying." 
The  difference  was  very  clearly  marked.  There 
could  be  no  danger  of  error. 

"  Which  served  ?"  Mr.  Loring  was  in  so  earnest 
a  frame  of  mind,  that  he  spoke  aloud.  There  was 
a  pause.  Specious  reasonings  began  to  intrude 
themselves,  and  self-interest  to  lift  a  blinding  veil. 
In  the  strife  that  now  began,  Mr.  Loring  started  to 
his  feet,  and  commenced  pacing  the  floor. 

"  You  cannot  bring  this  law  down  into  ordinary 
business  transactions.  It  would  be  suicidal,"  said 
self-interest.  "  There  must  be  a  great  change  in  the 
world,  before  a  man  is  able  to  live  up  to  the  Gospel 
standard  in  trade." 

But  enlightened  reason  saw  the  fallacy  of  this,  as 
applied  to  the  case  on  hand,  and  answered  it  by 
the  question — 


•WHICH   SHALL    SEKVE?  277 

"  Did  I  act  upon  the  '  let  live,'  as  well  as  the 
*  live '  principle,  in  the  present  case  ?  No ;  I  did 
not!"  was  the  emphatic  response;  "but  instead, 
coveted  my  neighbor's  goods,  and  used  deceiving 
arts,  in  order  to  obtain  them !  I  was  not  content 
to  make  a  fair  profit,  in  an  honorable  transaction ; 
but,  discovering  my  neighbor's  necessities,  took 
advantage  of  them,  to  secure  for  myself  what  of 
right  was  his.  Which  served  in  this  case  ?" 

Mr.  Loring  paused,  and  stood  still;  then  reso 
lutely  answered  to  himself. 

"The  spiritual  served!  The  higher  principle 
stooped  down  and  degraded  itself,  as  a  servant  to 
the  lower.  Neighborly  love  became  passive,  that 
self-love  might  rule.  Good  gave  place  to  evil !" 

"  This  will  not  do,"  he  resumed,  after  standing 
silent  for  some  moments.  "  If  I  wish  to  turn  my 
steps  heavenward,  I  must  seek  another  way ;  for 
all  progress  in  this  direction  must  be  downwards 
instead  of  upwards.  The  order  of  life  must  be  re 
versed.  Natural,  selfish  affections  must  be  servant 
to  spiritual  and  divine  affections.  Religion  is  lifex 
and  life  is  action ;  a  religious  life  must,  therefore, 
be  a  good  life." 

But  natural  affections  were  not  thus  to  be  over- 


278  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

come  by  a  single  effort.  The  life  of  self-love  is 
strong  in  the  heart  of  every  man ;  for  it  has  been 
stimulated,  from  childhood  up,  with  an  abundance 
of  the  most  nutritious  food.  The  forces  of  evil 
rallied  again  ;  and,  for  a  time,  Mr.  Loring's  clear 
perceptions  were  dimmed,  and  he  felt  weak  in  the 
hands  of  the  enemies  of  his  soul.  Then,  in  con 
scious  weakness  and  fear,  he  looked  upwards  and 
prayed  for  wisdom  and  strength — for  clear  sight 
and  unflinching  purpose. 

"  I  have  done  evil,"  he  said  now  to  himself,  "  and 
have  sinned  against  God ;  but  I  repent." 

"  Then  do  the  works  meet  for  repentance."  The 
injunction  was  in  his  own  thought,  and  he  answered 
—"I  will!" 

"When  Mr.  Loring  became  really  in  earnest  in  a 
matter,  he  was  no  half-way  man.  From  this  point 
he  refused  to  listen  to  the  pleadings  and  demands 
of  natural  principles,  and  steadily  maintained  a 
better  resolution.  On  the  next  day  he  drew  up  the 
notes  to  be  given  for  the  goods  purchased  of  Austin 
&  Ledon,  and  made  them  for  an  amount  equal  to 
the  price  of  the  goods  at  current  quotations. 

"  You  have  made  an  error,"  said  Mr.  Austin,  as 
he  looked  at  the  face  of  the  notes. 


WHICH   SHALL   SEKVE?  279 

"  I  am  aware  of  that,"  replied  Mr.  Loring,  "  and 
simply  correct  it  now.  I  have  ascertained  that 
Barker  &  Brother  have  no  shipments  on  the  way, 
as  I  intimated  yesterday.  The  goods  will  not,  I  pre 
sume,  recede,  but  rather  advance  in  the  next  sixty 
days.  So  I  consider  it  only  fair  to  let  you  make 
your  profit,  and  I  will  be  content  with  mine." 

"  You  are  a  strange  man,"  said  Mr.  Austin,  taken 
altogether  by  surprise. 

"  How  so  ?"  was  the  quiet  interrogation. 

"  It  is  now  thirty  years  since  I  began  business  in 
this  city,"  replied  Austin,  "  and  this  is  the  first  in 
stance  within  my  knowledge  of  a  merchant's  reced 
ing,  to  his  own  disadvantage,  from  a  good  bargain." 

"  Am  I  wrong  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Loring. 

"  You  are  just,"  said  the  other. 

"  Then  I  am  right ;  for  if  this  be  just,  the  oppo 
site  would  be  unjust." 

"  I  am  not  sure,  however,"  said  Mr.  Austin,  "  that 
we  can  accept  your  generous  concession.  "We  sold 
the  goods  at  a  price  agreed  upon,  and  we  preferred 
Belling  to  keeping  them  in  store.  It  was  a  fair 
business  transaction." 

"You  cannot  hold  me  to  an  unjust  thing,"  re 
plied  Mr.  Loring.  "  According  to  your  own  view 


280  STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

of  the  case,  my  offer  to  pay  the  regular  market 
price  you  considered  an  act  of  justice.  To  settle, 
according  to  the  original  agreement,  would,  there- 
fare,  involve  injustice  on  my  part,  and  leave  my 
conscience  troubled." 

"  Have  it  your  own  way;  have  it  your  own  way, 
Mr.  Loring!"  Austin  replied,  with  some  feeling. 
"  This  is,  indeed,  a  new  thing  under  the  sun.  The 
millennium  is  at  hand !" 

Mr.  Loring  smiled,  and  said — 

"Is  it  so  strange  a  thing,  then,  for  men  to  be 
simply  just  in  business  ?" 

"  It  is,  in  my  experience,"  replied  Mr.  Austin. 
"  Every  man  goes  in  for  himself ;  and  in  going  in 
for  himself,  ignores  the  interest  of  his  neighbor. 
Get  what  you  can,  through  any  modes  of  sharp 
bargaining  not  hindered  by  law,  and  keep  all  you 
get.  This  is  the  mercantile  creed  of  to-day.  And 
I  do  not  afirm  that  I  have  acted,  in  all  of  my  deal 
ings,  very  far  away  from  this  creed.  But,  Mr 
Loring,  your  conduct  a  little  staggers  my  faith  in 
myself.  It  is  just,  I  see;  but  I  am  not  sure  that  I 
could  have  done  so  nobly.  I  honor  you  as  a  Chris 
tian  merchant,  and  wish  from  my  heart  that  the 
world  were  full  of  such." 


WHICH    SHALL   SERVE?  281 

And  he  caught  the  hand  of  Mr.  Loring  in  his 
enthusiasm,  and  clasped  it  with  a  firm  pressure. 

"  We  call  ourselves  Christian  men,"  said  Mr. 
Loring ;  "  but  can  we  be  Christian  men  if  we  are  not 
Christian  merchants  ?  Is  any  man  entitled  to  the 
name  who  narrows  down  his  purposes  to  the  little 
item  of  self,  as  if  he  were  of  most  importance  in  the 
world?  I  think  not.  There  must  be  just  action 
towards  others,  or  there  can  be  no  Christianity  in 
the  heart." 

"  The  doctrine  is  clear,"  replied  Mi ,  Austin  ; 
"and  I  thank  you  for  both  the  true  precept  and 
the  good  action.  I  think  the  profit  will  l»e  mine  as 
well  as  yours." 

After  that  Mr.  Loring  walked  in  a  broader  light, 
and  with  a  firmer  step.  The  way  before  Iiloa  was 
plainer.  He  saw,  clearly  discriminated,  the  differ 
ence  between  natural  and  spiritual  principles ;  and 
elected,  that  in  his  mind  the  spiritual  should  aofc 
serve,  but  rule ;  and  it  was  so. 


282  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 


XXV. 

MR.  BROWNLEE'S  VISITOR. 

MR.  BROWNLEE  felt  comfortable.  It  was  evening, 
and  late  in  December.  Outside,  the  wind  had  a 
cold,  sharp  whistle,  and  the  snow,  with  which  it- 
was  laden,  had  been  weaving,  since  early  morning, 
a  shroud  for  the  waning  year.  Within,  the  grate 
glowed,  the  gas  burned  brilliantly,  wife  smiled,  and 
children  played  in  happy  unconsciousness  of  cold, 
or  want,  or  suffering. 

Mr.  Brownlee  was  in  his  pleasant  sitting-room, 
the  walls  of  which  were  hung  with  pictures,  the 
windows  draped  with  curtains,  and  the  floor  car 
peted  with  yielding  Brussels.  He  sat  by  a  centre 
table,  on  which  were  new  books  and  the  latest 
numbers  of  the  best  monthlies. 

Now,  all  this  was  calculated  to  make  a  man  feel 
comfortable;  and  Mr.  Brownlee  was  entitled  to 
what  he  enjoyed ;  for  he  was  an  honorable,  intel- 


MR.  BROWNIEE'S  VISITOR.  283 

ligent,  active,  and  successful  merchant,  a  good  citi 
zen,  a  loving  husband,  and  a  wise  and  tender  parent. 

"  Wasn't  that  our  bell  ?"  Mr.  Brownlee  asked, 
looking  up  from  the  page  of  a  book. 

"  I  think  so,"  answered  Mrs.  Brownlee,  and  both 
listened  as  the  waiter  moved  along  the  passage.  A 
man's  voice  was  heard. 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder,"  said  Mr.  Brownlee,  "  if 
that  were  Mr.  Lewis."  There  was  a  shade  of  dis 
satisfaction  in  his  tones. 

"Mr.  Lewis,"  said  the  waiter,  entering  the  sit 
ting-room  a  few  moments  afterwards. 

"  Ask  him  to  walk  up  stairs." 

The  waiter  retired.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brownlee 
looked  at  each  other ;  but  as  their  children  were 
present,  neither  made  any  remark.  But  it  was  un 
derstood  between  them  that  the  visit  of  Mr.  Lewis 
was  mutually  regarded  as  something  bordering  on 
an  intrusion.  They  were  feeling  very  comfortable, 
as  we  have  seen,  shut  in  from  the  chilling  wintry 
blasts,  and  with  the  most  agreeable  surroundings ; 
and  the  presence  of  any  stranger,  just  at  that  time, 
could  scarcely  help  being  unwelcome. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Lewis."  Mr.  Brownlee's 
voice  was  kind,  if  not  cordial. 


284  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

A  man  plainly,  we  might  say  coarsely,  dressed 
entered  the  room.  His  manners  were  far  from 
being  polished  ;  though  his  rather  pale,  care-worn 
face  had  in  it  many  indications  of  a  natural  refine 
ment^ 

"  Good  evening,"  he  responded,  giving  an  awk 
ward  nod.     "  Good  evening,  ma'am,"  was  added 
with  a  nod,  in  turn,  to  Mrs.  Brownlee.     And  the;  i 
he  came  forwards  and  took  the   chair  that  was 
offered  him,  and  drawing  up  to  the  grate,  warmed 
himself. 

"  Heavy  storm  this,"  remarked  Mr.  Brownlee. 

"  Yes.  The  snow  lies  over  a  foot  d  ^p.  But 
you  are  very  comfortable  here."  And  Air.  Lewis 
glanced  around  the  pleasant  room. 

"  How  is  your  wife  to  day  ?"  L  quired  Mrs. 
Brownlee. 

"  Something  better,  thank  you,  ma'am.  I  hav'n't 
been  able  to  see  her ;  but  the  nurse  told  me  that 
she  slept  last  night,  and  has  less  fever  to-day.  I 
feel  very  much  encouraged.  Oh,  djear!  If  she 
only  gets  over  it,  I  shall  be  so  rejoiced !" 

"  How  many  children  have  you  ?" 

"Four,  ma'am;  and  the  youngest  is  just  about 
as  old  as  that  dear  little  girl  now  in  your  lap.  Oh, 


MR.  BROWNLEE'S  VISITOR.  285 

dear !  It  was  hard  for  her  to  be  separated  from 
her  mother,  but  harder  for  the  mother.  I'm  so  in 
hopes  she'll  get  safely  over  it  soon.  I  talked  with 
the  doctor  to-day ;  and  he  says  that  he's  no  doubt 
all  will  come  out  right." 

"  I  hope  so,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Brownlee,  kindly. 

"  How  pleasant  it  is  here !"  and  Mr.  Lewis  looked 
all  around  the  room  again.  "  And  you  are  so  hap 
py  in  having  all  your  children  around  you !  Home 
is  a  blessed  place — blessed,  even  though  homely. 
Mine  wasn't  like  this  ;  but  it  was  a  happy  home  for 
all  that." 

"  "Where  are  your  children  now  ?" 

"  Scattered  all  around  among  relations — poor 
things !  Since  my  wife's  sickness,  it's  taken  all  I  had 
saved,  and  all  I  could  earn,  to  get  her  doctored.  Oh, 
if  they  should  cure  her  now,  I  shall  be  so  happy  !" 

"  We  will  hope  for  the  best,"  said  Mr.  Brownlee. 

""I  always  do  that  ;  but  it  has  been  hoping 
against  hope  for  the  last  eight  or  nine  months. 
The  darkest  hour,  they  tell  us,  is  just  before  day 
break.  So  I  comfort  myself  with  thinking  the 
morning  is  very  near." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brownlee  were  touched  with  the 
earnestness  and  simple  pathos  of  their  visitor,  a 


286  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

poor  man  from  the  country,  who  had  brought  his 
wife  to  one  of  the  city  hospitals  to  be  cured,  if 
possible,  of  a  disease  that  for  a  time  threatened  her 
life.  Mr.  Brownlee  had  met  him  by  accident,  and 
from  kindness  of  heart  invited  him  to  his  house. 
Mr.  Lewis  had  taken  advantage  of  this  invitation 
to  drop  in  two  or  three  times  a  week  and  enjoy  the 
home  comforts  and  the  books  and  periodicals  he 
found  in  Mr.  Brownlee's  pleasant  sitting-room.  He 
was  not  always  an  entirely  welcome  guest;  and 
yet  he  was  so  simple-minded,  so  interested  with  the 
children,  and  manifested  so  much  enjoyment  in  the 
books  and  magazines  he  found  upon  the  centre 
table,  that  neither  Mr.  Brownlee  nor  his  wife  could 
feel  anything  but  kindness  towards  their  unsophis 
ticated  intruder. 

On  the  present  occasion,  Mr.  Lewis,  after  warm 
ing  himself  by  the  grate,  talking  for  a  time  in  his 
own  peculiar  way,  and  amusing  himself  with  the 
children,  took  up  a  book,  and  was  soon  buried  in 
its  pages.  Time  went  gliding  by  on  swift  wings, 
and  Mr.  Lewis  took  no  notice  of  his  flight.  Nine 
o'clock  came,  and  the  last  child  was  put  to  bed, 
but  he  went  on  turning  the  pages  of  the  book  in 
which  he  had  become  interested,  wholly  uncon 


MR.  BROWNLEE'S  VISITOR.  287 

scious  that  the  long  evening  had  waned  so  far 
Half-past  nine  found  him  still  buried  in  its  pages. 

Mr.  Brownlee,  who  had  for  a  time  felt  pleasure 
in  the  poor  man's  enjoyment  of  his  comfortable 
surroundings,  now  began  wishing  him  away. 

"  I  like  to  be  hospitable,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"  but  this  is  carrying  the  joke  a  little  too  far." 

Ten  o'clock  was  rung  out  at  last  by  the  hand 
some  French  clock  on  the  mantel-piece,  but  Mr. 
Lewis  did  not  heed  the  warning. 

"  This  is  a  very  interesting  book,"  he  said,  about 
five  minutes  afterwards,  looking  at  Mr.  Brownlee, 
his  mild  face  beaming  with  true  enjoyment.  "  How 
pleasant  it  is  here !"  he  added ;  and  then  his  eyes 
went  back  to  the  page  from  which  he  had  lifted 
them. 

Mr.  Brownlee's  heart  softened  towards  the  poor 
man,  and  yet  he  could  not  overcome  a  feeling  of 
annoyance  at  his  prolonged  stay.  He  looked  at 
his  wife,  and  his  wife  looked  at  him — then  they 
glanced  mutually  and  meaningly  at  Mr.  Lewis. 
Mrs.  Brownlee  yawned,  and  Mr.  Brownlee  yawned, 
rather  loudly,  in  concert;  but  their  guest  was 
wholly  oblivious.  The  fascination  of  the  page  was 
complete.  Next,  Mr.  Brownlee  got  up,  and  com 


288  STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

menced  pacing  the  floor;  he  was  too  fidgety  to 
sit  still.  He  looked  at  the  clock,  the  minute-hand 
of  which  was  now  almost  at  thirty,  looked  at  Mr. 
Lewis,  looked  at  his  wife,  knit  his  brows,  and  then 
walked  on  more  rapidly  than  before.  At  last  im 
patience  spoke  out. 

"  Mr.  Lewis,"  said  he,  "  do  you  know  how  late 
it  is  ?"  Now,  Mr.  Brownlee  tried  to  say  this  with 
some  gentleness;  but  his  real  feelings  came  more 
fully  into  his  voice  than  he  was  aware.  It  was 
plain,  from  the  shadow  that  came  instantly  over 
the  face  of  Mr.  Lewis,  as  he  closed  the  book,  and 
let  it  fall  upon  the  table,  that  he  felt  rebuked. 
His  eyes  glanced  from  the  countenance  of  Mr. 
Brownlee  to  the  clock  on  the  mantel. 

"  Half-past  ten !"  he  said,  in  surprise.  "  I  didn't 
dream  of  its  being  so  late.  Time  passes  much 
quicker  here,  I  think,  than  it  does  in  some  other 
places.  Good  evening,  sir !  Good  evening,  ma'am ! 
I  shall  remember  your  kindness  as  long  as  I  live. 
I  should  not  have  staid  so  late;  but  a  book  and 
this  pleasant  room  made  me  forget  myself.  At  the 
cheap  tavern  where  I  am  staying,  there  is  no  place 
to  sit  down  in  but  the  bar ;  and  I  don't  like  drink 
ing,  smoking,  and  swearing.  I  walk  the  streets 


ME.  BKOWNLEE'S  VISITOR.  289 

half  of  the  evening,  sometimes ;  but  to-night  it  was 
too  stormy.  Good  evening,  sir.  Good  evening, 
ma'am." 

And  Mr.  Lewis  turned  away,  and  went  forth 
into  the  blinding  storm,  to  walk  nearly  half  a  mile 
before  gaming  his  dreary  lodging-place. 

"  Poor  man !"  there  was  pity  in  the  voice  of  Mrs. 
Brownlee. 

"  And  yet,"  said  Mr.  Brownlee,  speaking  in 
answer  to  the  words  of  Mr.  Lewis,  rather  than  to 
those  of  his  wife,  "  I  gave  him  grudgingly  of  my 
home-comforts,  and  suffered  a  weak,  selfish  annoy 
ance,  while  he  was  drinking  in  pleasure  at  every 
source !  What  a  storm  it  is !"  Mr.  Brownlee 
glanced  towards  the  window,  against  which  had 
come  the  snow-laden  blast  with  a  heavier  rush. 
"  And  I  have  sent  this  poor  man  forth  to  meet  its 
wintry  chill,  with  a  pressure  on  his  feelings.  A  lit 
tle  more  Christian  patience,  a  little  more  considera 
tion,  a  little  more  unselfish  pleasure  in  sharing  my 
good  gifts  with  him,  would  have  made  his  spirit 
lighter,  and  mine  also.  Kindness,  humanity,  regard 
for  others,  ever  bear  a  double  blessing ;  the  want  of 
them  as  surely  lays  upon  our  hearts  a  double 
burden.  I  was  never  more  conscious  of  this  than 

13 


290  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

now.  I  will  try  not  to  forget  the  lesson.  The 
lighting  of  another's  candle  at  ours  should  never 
dim  its  radiance,  as  it  has  dimmed  mine  to 
night." 


THE   SHADOWS   WE   CAST.  291 


XXYI. 
THE  SHADOWS  WE  CAST. 

A  CHILD  was  playing  with  some  building  blocks ; 
and,  as  the  mimic  castle  rose  before  his  eyes  in 
graceful  proportions,  a  new  pleasure  swelled  in  his 
heart.  He  felt  himself  to  be  the  creator  of  a 
"  thing  of  beauty,"  and  was  conscious  of  a  new 
born  power.  Arch,  wall,  buttress,  gateway,  draw- 
bridge,  lofty  tower,  and  battlement  were  all  the 
work  of  his  hands.  He  was  in  wonder  at  his  own 
skill  in  thus  creating,  from  an  unseemly  pile  of 
blocks,  a  structure  of  such  rare  design. 

Silently  he  stood  and  gazed  upon  his  castle  with 
something  like  the  pride  of  an  architect  who  sees, 
after  months  or  years  of  skillfully  applied  labor, 
some  grand  conception  in  his  art,  embodied  in  im 
perishable  stone.  Then  he  moved  around,  viewing 
it  on  every  side.  It  did  not  seem  to  him  a  toy, 
reaching  only  a  few  inches  in  height,  and  covering 


292  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

but  a  square  foot  of  ground,  but  a  real  castle,  lift 
ing  itself  hundreds  of  feet  upwards  towards  the 
blue  sky,  and  spreading  wide  upon  the  earth  its 
ample  foundations.  As  the  idea  grew  more  and 
more  perfect,  his  strange  pleasure  increased.  Now 
he  stood,  with  folded  arms,  wrapped  in  the  over 
mastering  illusion — now  walked  slowly  around, 
viewing  the  structure  on  all  sides,  and  noting  every 
minute  particular — and  now  sat  down,  and  bent 
over  it  with  the  fondness  of  a  mother  bending  over 
her  child.  Again  he  arose,  purposing  to  obtain 
another  and  more  distant  view  of  his  work.  But 
his  foot  struck  against  one  of  the  buttresses,  and 
instamtly,  with  a  crash,  wall,  tower,  and  battlement 
fell  in  hopeless  ruin ! 

In  the  room,  with  the  boy  sat  his  father,  reading. 
The  crash  disturbed  him  ;  and  he  uttered  a  sharp, 
angry  rebuke,  glancing,  for  a  moment,  towards  the 
startled  child,  and  then  returning  his  eyes  to  the 
attractive  page  before  him,  unconscious  of  the 
shadow  he  had  cast  upon  the  heart  of  his  child. 
Tears  came  into  those  fair  blue  orbs,  dancing  in 
light  a  moment  before.  From  the  frowning  face  of 
his  father,  to  which  his  glance  was  suddenly  turned, 
the  child  looked  back  to  the  shapeless  ruins  of  his 


TTTE   SHADOWS   WE   CAST.  293 

castle.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  he  bowed  his  face  in 
silence  upon  them,  and  wet  them  with  his  tears. 

For  more  than  five  minutes,  he  sat  as  still  as  if 
sleeping ;  then,  in  a  mournful  kind  of  way,  yet 
almost  noiselessly,  he  commenced  restoring  to  the 
box,  from  which  he  had  taken  them,  the  many- 
shaped  pieces  that,  fitly  joined  together,  had  grown 
into  a  noble  building.  After  the  box  was  filled, 
he  replaced  the  cover,  and  laid  it  carefully  upon  a 
shelf  in  the  closet. 

Poor  child !  That  shadow  was  a  deep  one,  and 
long  in  passing  away.  His  mother  found  him,  half 
an  hour  afterwards,  asleep  on  the  floor,  with  cheeks 
flushed  to  an  unusual  brightness.  She  knew 
nothing  of  that  troubled  passage  in  his  young  life ; 
and  the  father  had  forgotten,  in  the  attractions  of 
his  book,  the  momentary  annoyance,  expressed  in 
words  and  tones  with  a  power  in  them  to  shadow 
the  heart  of  his  child. 

A  young  wife  had  busied  herself  for  many  days 
in  preparing  a  pleasant  surprise  for  her  husband. 
The  work  was  finished  at  last ;  and  now  she  awaited 
his  return,  with  a  heart  full  of  warm  emotions.  A 
dressing-gown,  and  pair  of  elegantly  embroidered 
slippers,  wrought  by  her  own  skillful  fingers,  were 


294:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

the  gifts  with  which  she  meant  to  delight  him. 
What  a  troop  of  pleasant  fancies  was  in  her  heart ! 
How,  almost  impatiently,  did  she  wait  for  the 
coming  twilight,  which  was  to  be  dawn,  not  ap 
proaching  darkness,  to  her ! 

A  last,  she  heard  the  step  of  her  husband  in  the 
passage,  and  her  pulses  leaped  with  fluttering 
delight.  Like  a  bird  upon  the  wing,  she  almost 
flew  down  to  meet  him,  impatient  for  the  kiss  that 
awaitod  her. 

To  men  in  the  world  of  business,  few  days  pas* 
without  their  disappointments  and  perplexities.  It 
is  man's  business  to  bear  this  in  a  manly  spirit. 
They  form  but  a  portion  of  life's  discipline,  and 
should  make  them  stronger,  braver,  and  more  en 
during.  Unwisely,  and  we  may  say  unjustly,  too 
many  men  fail  to  leave  their  business  cares  and  trou 
bles  in  their  stores,  workshops,  or  counting-rooms, 
at  the  day's  decline.  They  wrap  them  in  bundles, 
and  carry  them  home  to  shadow  their  households. 

It  was  so  with  the  young  husband  on  this  parti 
cular  occasion.  The  stream  of  business  had  taken 
an  eddying  whirl,  and  thrown  his  vessel  backwards, 
instead  of  onwards,  for  a  brief  space  ;  and,  though 
it  was  still  in  the  current,  and  gliding  safely  onwards 


THE    SHADOWS   WE   CAST.  295 

againx  the  jar  and  disappointment  had  fretted  his 
mind  severely.  There  was  no  heart-warmth  in  the 
kiss  he  gave  his  wife,  not  because  love  had  failed 
in  any  degree,  but  because  he  had  let  care  over 
shadow  l»ve.  He  drew  his  arm  around  her ;  but 
she  was  conscious  of  a  diminished  pressure  in  that 
embracing  arm. 

"Are  you  not  well  ?" 

With  what  tender  concern  was  the  question 
asked! 

«  Very  well." 

He  might  be  in  body,  but  not  in  mind ;  that  was 
plain ;  for  his  voice  was  far  from  being  cheerful. 

She  played  and  sang  his  favorite  pieces,  hoping 
to  restore,  by  the  charm  of  music,  brightness  to  his 
spirit.  But  she  was  conscious  of  only  partial  suc 
cess.  There  was  still  a  gravity  in  his  manner  never 
perceived  before.  At  tea-time,  she  smiled  upon  him 
so  sweetly  across  the  table,  and  talked  to  him  on 
such  attractive  themes,  that  the  rigjit  expression 
returned  to  his  countenance ;  and  he  looked  as 
happy  as  she  could  desire. 

From  the  tea-table,  they  returned  to  their  plea 
sant  parlor.  And  now  the  time  had  come  for  offer 
ing  her  gift,  and  receiving  the  coveted  reward  of 


296  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

glad  surprise,  followed  by  sweet  kisses  and  loving 
words.  "Was  she  selfish  ?  Did  she  think  more  of 
her  reward  than  of  the  pleasure  she  would  bestow? 
But  that  is  questioning  too  closely. 

"  I  will  be  back  in  a  moment,"  she  said ;  and, 
passing  from  the  room,  she  went  lightly  up  the 
stairs.  Both  tone  and  manner  betrayed  her  secret, 
or  rather  the  possession  of  a  secret  with  which  her 
husband  was  to  be  surprised.  Scarcely  had  her 
loving  face  faded  from  before  his  eyes,  when 
thought  returned,  with  a  single  bound,  to  an  un 
pleasant  event  of  the  day ;  and  the  waters  of  his 
spirit  were  again  troubled.  He  had  actually  arisen, 
and  crossed  the  floor  once  or  twice,  moved  by  a 
restless  concern,  when  his  wife  came  back  with  the 
dressing-gown  and  slippers.  She  was  trying  to 
force  her  countenance  into  a  grave  expression,  to 
hold  back  the  smiles  that  were  continually  striving 
to  break  in  truant  circles  around  her  lips,  when  a 
single  glance  at  her  husband's  face  told  her  that 
the  dark  spirit,  driven  away  by  the  exorcism  of  her 
love,  had  returned  again  to  his  bosom.  He  looked 
at  her  soberly,  as  she  came  forward. 

"  What  are  these  ?"  he  asked,  almost  coldly,  re 
pressing  surprise,  and  affecting  an  ignorance,  in 


THE   SHADOWS   WE   OAST.  297 

regard  to  the  beautiful  present  she  held  in  her 
hands,  that  he  did  not  feel. 

"  They  are  for  you,  dear.  I  made  them." 
"  For  me  ?  Nonsense  !  "What  do  I  want  with 
such  jimcrackery  ?  This  is  woman's  wear.  Do 
you  think  I  would  disfigure  my  feet  with  embroi 
dered  slippers,  or  dress  up  in  a  calico  gown  ?  Put 
them  away,  dear !  Tour  husband  is  too  much  of  a 
man  to  robe  himself  in  gay  colors,  like  a  clown  or 
actor."  And  he  waved  his  hand  with  an  air  of 
contempt.  There  was  a  cold,  sneering  manner 
about  him,  partly  affected  and  partly  real — the 
real  born  of  his  uncomfortable  state  of  mind.  Yet 
he  loved  his  sweet  wife,  and  would  not,  of  set  pur 
pose,  have  wounded  her  for  the  world. 

This  unexpected  repulse — this  cruel  reception  of 
her  present,  over  which  she  had  wrought,  patiently, 
in  golden  hope  for  many  days — this  dashing  to  the 
earth  her  brimful  cup  of  joy,  just  as  it  touched  her 
lips,  was  more  than  the  fond  young  wife  could 
bear.  To  hide  the  tears  that  came  rushing  to  her 
eyes,  she  turned  away  from  her  husband ;  and,  to 
conceal  the  sobs  she  had  no  power  to  repress,  she 
went  almost  hurriedly  from  the  room  ;  and,  going 
back  to  the  chamber  from  whence  she  had  brought 
13* 


298  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

the  present,  she  laid  it  away  out  of  sight  in  a  closet. 
Then  covering  her  face  with  her  hands,  she  sat 
down,  and  strove  with  herself  to  be  calm.  But  the 
shadow  was  too  deep — the  heartache  too  heavy. 

In  a  little  while  her  husband  followed  her,  and 
discovering,  something  to  his  surprise,  that  she  was 
weeping,  said,  in  a  slightly  reproving  voice: 
"  Why,  bless  me  !  not  in  tears !  What  a  silly  little 
puss  you  are !  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  you  thought 
of  making  a  dressing-gown  and  pair  of  slippers,  and 
I  would  have  vetoed  the  matter  at  once?  You 
couldn't  hire  me  to  wear  such  flaunting  things. 
Come  back  to  the  parlor" — he  took  hold  of  her 
arm,  and  lifted  her  from  the  chair — "  and  sing  and 
play  for  me.  'The  Dream  Waltz,'  or  'The  Tre 
molo,'  '  Dearest  May,'  or  '  The  Stilly  Night'  are 
worth  more  to  me  than  forty  dressing-gowns,  or  a 
cargo  of  embroidered  slippers." 

Almost  by  force,  he  led  her  back  to  the  parlor, 
and  placed  her  on  the  music-stool.  He  selected  a 
favorite  piece,  and  laid  it  before  her.  But  tears 
were  in  her  eyes;  and  she  could  not  see  a  note. 
Over  the  keys  her  fingers  passed  in  skillful  touches ; 
but,  when  she  tried  to  take  up  the  song,  utterance 
failed ;  and  sobs  broke  forth  instead  of  words. 


THE   SHADOWS    WE   CAST.  299 

"  How  foolish !"  said  the  husband,  in  a  vexed 
tone.  "  I'm  surprised  at  you  1"  And  he  turned 
from  the  piano,  and  walked  across  the  room. 

A  little  while  the  sad  young  wife  remained 
where  she  was  left  thus  alone,  and  in  partial  anger. 
Then,  rising,  she  went  slowly  from  the  room — her 
husband  not  seeking  to  restrain  her — and,  going  to 
her  chamber,  sat  down  in  darkness. 

The  shadow  which  had  been  cast  upon  her  spirit 
was  very  deep  ;  and,  though  the  hidden  sun  came 
out  again  right  early,  it  was  a  long  time  before  his 
beams  had  power  to  scatter  the  clouds  that  floated 
in  love's  horizon. 

The  shadows  we  cast !  Father,  husband,  wife, 
sister,  brother,  son,  neighbor — are  we  not  all  cast 
ing  shadows  daily,  on  some  hearts  that  are  pining 
for  the  sunlight  of  our  faces  ?  We  have  given  you 
two  pictures  of  life,  true  pictures,  not  as  in  a  mir 
ror,  but  in  a  kaleidoscope.  In  all  their  infinitely 
varied  relations,  men  and  women,  selfishly,  or 
thoughtlessly — from  design,  weakness,  or  ignorance 
— are  casting  their  shadows  upon  hearts  that  are 
pining  for  sunlight.  A  word,  a  look,  a  tone,  an 
act,  will  cast  a  shadow,  and  sadden  a  spirit  for 
hours  and  days.  Speak  kindly,  act  kindly,  be  for- 


300  STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

getters  of  self,  and  regardless  of  others,  and  you 
will  cast  but  few  shadows  along  the  paths  of  life. 
The  true  gentleman  is  always  tender  of  the  feelings 
of  others — always  watchful,  lest  he  wound  uninten 
tionally — always  thinking,  when  with  others,  of 
their  pleasure  instead  of  his  own.  He  casts  but 
few  shadows.  Be  gentlemen — ladies,  or — in  a 
word  that  includes  all  graces  and  excellences — 
Christians ;  for  it  is  the  Christian  who  casts  few 
est  shadows  of  all. 


GOOD   DEEDS.  301 


XXVII. 
GOOD    DEEDS. 

"  HE  is  paving  the  way  to  heaven  by  good 
deeds,"  said  a  lady.  I  bent  my  ear  and  listened. 

"  Unless  it  is  very  well  paved,  he  will  find  pro 
gress  in  that  direction  exceedingly  difficult."  The 
reply  fixed  my  attention. 

"  Are  yon  not  uncharitable  ?"  remarked  the  first 
speaker.  "  Mr.  Floyd  does  a  great  deal  of  good. 
I  never  go  to  him  on  an  errand  of  benevolence, 
that  he  does  not  give  me  something." 

"  To  buy  paving-stones,"  was  the  quiet  remark. 

"  Now,  that  is  too  bad  1"  said  the  other.  "  Give 
the  man  credit  for  what  he  does.  By  their  fruit  ye 
shall  know  them." 

"  God  looks  at  the  heart,  not  at  the  act.  It  isn't 
what  a  man  does,  that  saves  him,  but  why  he  does 
it.  The  quality  is  determined  by  the  purposes,  or 
ends  of  action,  not  by  the  outside  work.  Two  men 


302  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

may  do  the  same  thing ;  yet,  to  one  it  may  be  a 
good  act,  and  to  the  other  an  evil  one." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  A  good  deed  is  a 
good  deed.  By  what  process  can  you  change  its 
quality  ?" 

"  I  thought,"  said  the  other,  "  that  you  would 
understand  me  clearly.  The  acts  of  the  two  men 
may  benefit  alike  the  objects  ;  but,  the  actors  will 
be  blessed  or  cursed  therein,  according  as  their 
motives  were  good  or  evil." 

"  I  am  not  just  able,"  was  replied,  "  to  see  how  a 
good  deed  can  be  done  from  an  evil  purpose.  For 
instance,  I  called  on  Mr.  Floyd  yesterday  for  a 
subscription  to  our  "Widows'  Home,  and  he  gave 
me  ten  dollars.  That  was  a  good  act,  and  I  can 
conceive  of  no  prompting  impulse  but  a  good  one." 

The  lady  did  not  immediately  reply ;  and  I  was 
about  answering  for  her,  when  she  said : 

"  If  Mr.  Floyd  gave  the  ten  dollars  out  of  regard 
for  the  poor  widows,  then  the  act  was  a  good  act 
for  him ;  but,  if  to  appear  benevolent,  or  to  buy 
paving-stones  for  the  road  to  heaven,  then  it  was 
evil  to  him.  For,  in  this  latter  case,  love  of  the 
world  and  love  of  self,  instead  of  neighborly  love, 
ruled  in  his  heart.  And  men  only  advance  hea- 


GOOD  DEEDS.  303 

venward  by  the  way  of  good  aflections.  He  not 
only  lost  his  money,  but  his  reward.  To  the  poor 
widows,  the  benefit  was  the  same ;  but  the  donor's 
selfishness  robbed  him  of  his  proper  share." 

"  You  go  too  deep  for  me,"  was  answered  to  this. 
"  And  too  deep,  I  fancy,  for  most  people.  Charity, 
the  Bible  tells  us,  covers  a  multitude  of  sins.  And 
what  is  charity,  but  good  deeds  ?" 

"  Charity  is  love  of  the  neighbor,  manifesting 
itself  in  good  deeds,"  was  the  promptly-spoken 
reply. 

"  Very  well ;  who  will  say  that  Mr.  Floyd  did 
not  act  from  true  neighborly  love  ?" 

"  God  only  knows.  The  adjudication  of  the  mat 
ter  is  between  him  and  the  human  soul.  If  the 
motive  which  God  sees,  is  right,  the  action  will  be 
good ;  if  selfish,  the  action  will  be  evil,  so  far  as 
the  actor  is  concerned." 

"  But,  you  judge  Mr.  Floyd." 

"  Did  I  ?  "Well,  there  are  many  external  signs 
by  which  we  get  an  impression  of  a  man's  quality. 
Some  men  hang  but  a  thin  veil  over  their  motives ; 
while  others,  in  their  over  anxiety  for  concealment, 
are  constantly  betraying  themselves.  Mr.  Floyd  is 
one  of  the  most  transparent  men  I  know.  He  ia 


304:  BTEP8   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

constantly  letting  you  see  below  the  surface  of  his 
actions.  The  very  air  with  which  he  hands  you  a 
contribution,  betrays  the  lurking  sentiment." 

"  Then,"  said  the  other,  "  he  might  as  well  shut 
up  his  bowels  of  compassion.  If  good  deeds,  such 
as  he  does,  are  not  to  be  valid  in  heaven,  he  had 
better  keep  his  own,  and  enjoy  it  to  the  full." 

"  Kather  say,  that  he  had  better  make  the  inside 
of  his  platter  clean,  also.  Better  cherish  loving 
affections,  and  do  genuine  good  from  these,  and  so 
secure  his  share  of  benefits.  What  folly  to  halt  in 
the  way  after  this  fashion — to  be  content  with  only 
the  effigy  of  good  deeds — to  be  satisfied  to  eat  of 
the  husks  of  men's  extorted  praise,  instead  of  en 
joying  divine  approval,  and  eating  of  heavenly 
food.  As  to  selfishly  enjoying  what  you  call  his 
own,  that  is  impossible.  The  more  he  increases  in 
worldly  goods,  the  more  wretched  will  he  become, 
unless  he  uses  them  as  a  faithful  steward  of  him 
who  is  the  rightful  owner  of  all.  Like  waters  at 
rest,  unused  riches  spoil,  and  curse  their  owners. 
So,  if  he  will  not  give  from  the  purest  motives, 
still  he  had  better  give,  for,  in  giving,  he  will  find 
more  delight  than  in  withholding.  Even  the  sem 
blance  of  good  deeds  is  better  than  no  deeds  at  all. 


GOOD   DEEDS.  305 

The  neighbor  is  benefited,  and  the  selfish  giver 
obtains  some  fleeting  pleasure  that  stirs  briefly 
along  the  surface  of  his  life.  It  is  next  best  to 
genuine  charity." 

"  Judged  by  your  standard,  there  is  not  much 
good  done  in  the  world,"  was  answered. 

"  I  fear,"  said  the  lady,  "  that  there  is  less  of 
genuine  good  done  by  any  of  us  than  we  are  in 
clined  to  give  ourselves  credit  for.  I  know,  too 
well,  my  own  deficiencies." 

"  Which  makes  you  sharp  on  others,"  the  friend 
remarked,  half  playfully,  half  in  earnest. 

"  Well  retorted,"  was  good  humoredly  answered, 
"  and  I  accept  the  admonition ;  though,  I  do  not 
by  any  means  withdraw  the  main  proposition,  that 
the  quality  of  our  acts,  in  the  sight  of  heaven,  is 
determined  by  the  indwelling  motive.  This,  to  me, 
is  as  apparent  as  the  sun  at  noonday." 

And  the  lady  was  right 


306  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 


XXVIII. 
EUINED. 

"  THE  man  is  ruined — hopelessly  ruined  ! ' 
•     The  words  startled  me. 

"  So  bad  as  that  ?"  said  the  individual  to  whom 
the  remark  was  made. 

"  Even  so  bad." 

"  Of  whom  are  you  speaking  ?"  I  ventured  to  ask. 

«  Of  Jacob  Atwood." 

I  started  to  my  feet.  He  was  one  of  my  old,  in 
timate,  and  long-tried  friends. 

"  Kuined,  did  you  say  ?  That  man  ruined  !  Im 
possible  !" 

"  There  is  no  doubt  of  it.  I  received  my  infor 
mation  from  those  who  have  the  best  right  to 
know." 

"  "What  has  he  done  ?"  I  asked,  eagerly. 

My  question  was  received  in  silence,  as  if  the 
meaning  were  not  clearly  apprehended. 


RUINED.  307 

"Is  he  a  defaulter?" 

"  No."  The  answer  showed  surprise  at  my  ques; 
tion. 

"  Has  he  betrayed  an  honorable  trust  reposed  in 
him  by  his  fellow-men  ?" 

"  ISTo,  sir ;  his  integrity  is  without  question.  In  all 
his  public  relations  he  was  true  as  steel  to  principle." 

"  What  then  ?  Has  he  placed  any  portion  of  his 
property  beyond  the  reach  of  creditors  who  have 
just  claims  upon  him  ?" 

"  He  has  given  up  everything — even  to  the  fur 
niture  of  his  house.  'Not  a  dollar  has  been  retained, 
and  he  goes  forth  into  the  world  a  ruined  man." 

"  Oh  no,"  said  I,  speaking  out  warmly.  "  Not  in 
any  sense  a  ruined  man.  The  merchant  may  be 
ruined,  but,  thank  God !  -the  man  is  whole." 

The  little  company  looked  at  me,  for  a  moment 
or  two,  half  in  surprise. 

"  The  man  is  all  right,"  I  went  on.  "  Only  the 
scaffolding  on  which  the  workmen  stood  who  were 
building  up  his  character,  has  fallen.  Erect,  calm, 
noble,  half-divine,  he  stands,  now,  in  the  sunshine 
and  in  the  storm.  Around  his  majestic  brow  the 
clouds  may  gather ;  upon  it  the  tempests  may  beat ; 
but  he  is  immovable  in  his  great  integrity." 


308  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

Some  smiled  at  my  enthusiasm.    To  them  there 
was    nothing  of   the  moral  sublime  in  a  ruined 
merchant.     Others  looked  a  little  more  thoughtful^ 
than  before ;  and  one  said  feebly : 

"  There  is  something  in  that." 

Something  in  that !     I  should  think  there  was. 

It  was  the  first  intelligence  I  had  received  of  my 
friend's  worldly  misfortunes,  and  it  grieved  me.  In 
the  evening  I  went  to  see  Jacob  Atwood.  The 
windows  of  the  elegant  residence  where  he  had 
lived  for  years  were  closed.  I  looked  up  at  the 
house — it  had  a  deserted  aspect.  I  rung  the  bell ; 
no  one  answered  my  summons. 

I  could  not  repress  the  feeling  of  sadness  that 
came  over  me.  The  trial  must  have  been  severe 
even  for  a  brave  heart  like  his. 

"  I  must  find  him,"  said  I.  And  I  did  find  him ; 
but  far  away  from  the  neighborhood  where  mer 
chant  princes  had  their  palace-homes.  The  house 
into  which  he  had  retired  with  his  family  looked 
small,  and  mean,  and  comfortless,  in  comparison 
with  the  elegant  abode  from  which  he  had  re 
moved.  I  rung  and  was  admitted.  The  parlor  into 
which  I  was  shown  was  a  small  room,  and  the  fur 
niture  not  much  better  than  we  often  see  in  the 


BUINED.  30P 

houses  of  well-to-do  mechanics,  or  clerks  on  mode 
rate  salaries.  But  everything  was  in  order,  an^ 
scrupulously  neat. 

I  had  made  only  a  hurried  observation,  when 
Mr.  Atwood  entered.  He  looked  something  care 
worn — his  face  was  paler  than  when  I  last  saw  him, 
his  eyes  a  little  duller,  his  smile  less  cheerful.  The 
marks  of  trial  and  suffering  were  plainly  visible. 
It  would  have  been  almost  a  miracle  had  it  been 
otherwise.  But  he  did  not  exhibit  the  aspect  of  a 
ruined  man.  He  grasped  my  hand  warmly,  and 
said  it  was  pleasant  to  look  into  the  face  of  an  old 
friend.  I  offered  him  words  of  sympathy. 

"  The  worst  is  over,"  he  answered,  with  manly 
cheerfulness,  "  and  nothing  is  lost  which  may  not 
be  regained.  I  have  found  the  bottom,  know  where 
I  am,  and  there  is  strength  enough  left  in  me  to 
stand  up  securely  amid  the  rushing  waters.  The 
best  of  all  is,  my  property,  which  has  been  ap 
portioned  to  my  creditors,  will  pay  every  debt 
That  gives  my  heart  its  lightest  pulsations." 

"  I  heard  that  you  were  ruined"  said  I,  as  we 
sat  talking  together ;  "  but  I  find  that  the  man  is 
whole.  Not  a  principle  invaded  by  the  enemy — 
not  a  moral  sentiment  lost — not  a  jewel  in  the 
crown  of  honor  missing." 


310  STEPS   TOWAKD8   HEAVEN. 

He  took  my  hand,  and  grasping  it  hard,  looked 
into  my  face  steadily  for  some  moments.  Then,  in. 
a  subdued  voice,  he  made  answer — 

"  I  trust  that  it  is  even  so,  my  friend.  But  there 
were  seasons  in  the  worse  than  Egpytian  night 
through  which  I  have  passed,  when  the  tempter's 
power  seemed  about  to  crush  me.  For  myself  I 
cared  little ;  for  my  wife  and  children  everything. 
The  thought  of  seeing  them  go  out  from  the  plea 
sant  home  I  had  provided  for  them,  and  step  down, 
far  down  to  a  lower  level  in  the  social  grade,  half 
distracted  me  for  a  time.  For  them  I  would  have 
braved  everything  but  an  evil  deed,  that  is  sin 
against  God.  I  could  not  bow  to  that.  And  so  I 
passed  the  fiery  ordeal,  and  have  come  out  through 
a  more  than  human  strength,  I  trust,  a  better  man. 
No,  no,  no,  my  friend.  I  am  not  ruined.  I  have 
lost  my  fortune,  but  not  my  integrity." 

And  so  the  man  stood  firm.  It  was  not  in  the 
power  of  any  commercial  disaster  to  ruin  him. 
The  storm  raged  furiously  ;  the  waves  beat  madly 
against  him ;  but  he  stood  immovable,  for  his  feet 
were  upon  solid  rock. 


PROVIDENCE.  311 


XXIX. 

PKOYEDENCE. 

"  IT  is  very  dark,  but  I  am  trying  to  put  my 
trust  in  Providence,"  said  a  merchant,  as  he  sat 
one  evening  in  conversation  with  the  minister  oi 
his  church,  who  had  called  to  spend  in  an  hour  with 
him.  "  Men  are  falling  around  me,  like  soldiers  in 
battle ;  yet  I  am  still  on  my  feet,  moving  forwards, 
though  not  seeing  the  way  clear  before  me  for  a 
single  week.  The  Lord  has  helped  me  hitherto, 
when  the  way  was  as  difficult  as  it  is  now ;  and 
though  I  tremble,  I  still  look  up  in  hope." 

The  minister  listened,  but  did  not  answer  at 
once.  He  saw  that  in  the  mind  of  his  parishioner 
God's  providence  went  scarcely  beyond  the  things 
of  natural  life. 

"  God  is  an  infinite  and  eternal  being,  Mr. 
Harding,"  he  said,  letting  his  voice  dwell,  as  he 
Bpoke,  on  the  words  "  infinite"  and  " eternal." 


STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN". 

The  merchant  lifted  his  eyes  to  the  minister's 
face,  and  looked  at  him  earnestly. 

"  His  ends,  therefore,  must  be  infinite  and  eter 
nal,  and,  in  no  case,  limited  to  time." 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  take  your  meaning,"  saii 
the  merchant,  with  a  half-bewildered  air. 

"The  providence  of  God,  as  I  understand  it," 
said  the  spiritual  instructor,  "regards,  as  of  first  and 
highest  importance,  the  salvation  of  our  souls  from 
evil,  and  things  temporal  as  always  subordinated. 
J"  prosperity  will  in  any  degree  help  a  man  towards 
heaven,  or  prevent  him  from  sinking  to  a  lower 
place  in  hell,  then  God  permits  him  to  prosper  in 
the  world;  and  if  adversity  is  needed  for  the  same 
purpose,  then  adversity  will  come  in  spite  of  hu 
man  prudence.  It  is  always  man's  spiritual  good 
that  determines  the  action  of  Providence,  not  his 
natural  enjoyment." 

An  expression  of  blank  fear  settled  in  the  mer 
chant's  face.  This  was  to  him  a  new  and  alarming 
proposition ;  for  though  what  is  called  a  pious  man, 
that  is  one  strictly  observant  of  all  church  ordi 
nances,  and  exteriorly  devout,  his  heart  was  in  the 
good  things  of  this  world  more  than  in  the  heavenly 
things  of  the  next.  He  took  delight  in  laying  up 


PJROVIDENCE.  313 

treasure  on  the  earth ;  and  spent  much  care  in 
guarding  it  from  moth,  and  rust,  and  thieves. 
But  in  the  work  of  laying  up  treasure  for  Heaven, 
he  had  really  accomplished  but  little ;  for  his  heart 
was  not  in  this  work.  There  was  no  genuine  love 
in  his  Sabbath  worship,  no  spiritual  affection  in  his 
morning  prayers.  His  religion  was  a  kind  of  bribe 
thrown  to  Heaven ;  a  concession  made  for  tempo 
ral  security  and  final  safety.  No  wonder  that  this 
new  doctrine  startled  him. 

"  If  your  reading  of  the  doctrine  of  Providence 
be  correct,"  said  he,  after  musing  for  a  while,  and 
speaking  in  a  husky  tone  of  voice,  "I  don't  see 
much  to  encourage  me  in  this  day  of  sore  trouble." 

"Why  not?" 

"  My  spiritual  well-being  may  " 

The  merchant  paused,  unwilling  to  clothe  his 
thoughts  in  words. 

"Require  the  discipline  of  adversity,"  said  the 
minister,  concluding  the  sentence  for  him. 

There  was  a  sign  of  anguish  in  the  merchant's 
face — of  anguish  mingled  with  fear. 

"  You  bring  me  no  comfort,"  said  he.  "  This  is 
a  hard  doctrine." 

"  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the  wholo 
14 


314:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

world  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?"  The  minister  spoke 
almost  solemnly. 

"  I  do  not  want  the  whole  world,"  answered  the 
merchant,  as  if  pleading  for  his  earthly  goods :  "  I 
am  not  covetous  for  great  riches.  My  heart  is  not 
set  on  gold.  I  am  content  with  what  I  have." 

"  But  would  you  not  be  willing  to  part  with  all 
your  possessions,  if  in  doing  so  you  could  secure 
eternal  felicities  ?"  asked  the  minister. 

"  I  don't  see  how  my  being  crushed  down  now, 
and  being  overwhelmed.with  ruin,  is  going  to  ad 
vance  my  spiritual  welfare,"  replied  the  merchant, 
visibly  excited. 

"My  dear  brother,"  said  the  minister,  "  God's 
ways  are  not  as  our  ways.  He  is  infinitely  wise 
and  infinitely  good,  and  therefore  cannot  err  nor  be 
unkind.  He  will  permit  nothing  to  happen  to  you 
or  to  me  that  is  not  designed  to  secure  in  some  way 
our  eternal  well-being.  Let  us  not  be  like  short 
sighted  and  rebellious  children,  who  resist  the  dis 
cipline  of  their  wiser  parents.  All  souls  are  alike 
precious  in  his  eyes ;  and  he  cares  for  all  with  an 
infinite  love.  Your  neighbor,  whose  fortunes  fell, 
shattered  into  a  thousand  fragments,  last  week,  ia 
equal  with  you  in  the  eyes  of  God  ;  and  he  regarded 


PROVIDENCE.  315 

him  in  love  when  he  permitted  swift-footed  misfor 
tune  to  overtake  him.  Your  neighbor,  on  the 
other  side,  fell  also ;  but  he  was  not  without  the 
sphere  of  Providence,  nor  was  the  visitation  in 
anger,  but  in  tenderest  mercy.  It  may  be  that 
you  will  pass  safely  through;  but  your  standing 
or  falling  will  depend  on  the  security  of  your  eter 
nal  interest.  Whatever  is  best  for  the  elevation  of 
your  soul  towards  Heaven  will  occur.  Your  Father 
loves  you  too  well  to  permit  temporal  and  perish 
ing  things  to  rule  over  and  destroy  what  is  spiritual. 
Let  me  pray  you  to  submit  yourself,  as  an  obe 
dient  child,  to  the  will  of  God.  "Work  faithfully, 
vigorously;  do  all  in  your  power,  by  honorable 
means,  to  sustain  yourself,  and  leave  the  result  to 
Him  in  whose  hands  we  are  as  clay  in  the  hands 
of  the  potter.  Whatever  comes  will  be  for  the 
best ;  and  you  will  live  to  see  the  day  when  you 
can  look  back  and  bless  God  even  for  misfortune, 
should  it  shadow  your  path  of  life." 

As  the  minister  was  retiring,  after  having  in  vain 
striven  to  lift  the  merchant's  mind  upwards  into  a 
clear  perception  of  the  true  doctrine  of  Providence, 
the  latter  said  to  him,  in  a  depressed  tone  of  voice : 

"  You  have  taken  away  my  confidence.    I  was 


316  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

trusting  in  Providence,  and  hoping  for  a  right 
issue,  even  in  the  face  of  most  discouraging  signs : 
I  was  not  faithless,  but  believing ;  now,  doubt  and 
gloom  overshadow  me.  My  strength  is  gone.  I 
have  no  heart  to  struggle  in  the  meshes  that  fetter 
my  limbs." 

"  There  is  no  night  that  does  not  precede  a  morn 
ing,"  replied  the  minister,  as  he  held  the  merchant's 
hand  tightly  in  his  own.  "  In  every  death  is  in 
volved  a  resurrection.  Night  shadows  the  heart 
with  gloomy  fears,  and  death  comes  with  pain.  But 
the  morning  breaks  in  joy,  and,  through  the  resur 
rection,  we  rise  into  a  superior  life.  Do  not  shrink, 
then,  from  the  dark  night  of  misfortune,  if  it  is  to 
come,  nor  from  the  death  of  natural  affections ;  for 
without  the  latter  it  is  impossible  for  spiritual  life 
to  be  born." 

Then,  with  a  strong  pressure  on  the  merchant's 
hand,  he  turned  from  him  and  took  his  way  home 
ward. 

A  sleepless  night  did  the  merchant  pass.  It  was 
indeed  true  that  the  minister's  words  had  taken 
away  his  confidence.  He  could  trust  in  Providence 
for  natural  good  no  longer.  The  truth  had  reached 
down  and  taken  hold  of  his  convictions.  He  saw 


PROVIDENCE.  317 

that  eternal  ends  were  first  and  highest ;  and  that 
Divine  Wisdom  could  not  have  regard  to  natural 
things,  except  as  servants  of  the  spiritual.  He 
saw,  too,  that,  in  the  eyes  of  God,  he  was  only  his 
brother's  equal;  and  that  all  souls  were  alike 
precious. 

"  Hundreds  of  men  as  good  as  I  am,  and  hun 
dreds  who  are  far  better,  have  been  stricken  down 
in  this  wide-reaching  calamity,"  he  said  to  himself, 
as  he  pondered  the  new  aspect  of  things ;  "  and  can 
I  say  that  the  same  hard  discipline  is  not  required 
for  me  ?  ]STo,  no,  I  cannot — I  cannot." 

Drearily  broke  the  morning ;  and  the  merchant 
went  forth  to  his  business  with  a  heart  heavily 
oppressed ;  for  he  was  not  strong  enough  to  accept 
the  higher  truth  which  had  forced  itself  upon  his 
rational  convictions.  He  was  not  yet  willing  to 
give  up  his  natural  good,  that  spiritual  life  might 
be  born.  Reason  had  become  clear,  but  the  heart 
was  weak.  There  was  nothing  to  encourage  him 
in  the  business  of  the  day.  New  failures  had  taken 
place,  and  new  losses  shaken  the  house  in  which 
he  was  a  partner  to  the  very  foundations.  The 
most  hopeful  of  all  his  partners  began  to  talk  de- 
spondingly. 


318  STEPS   TOWAEDS   HEAVEN. 

Two  days  more  of  struggle  and  loss  went  by 
and  then  the  partners  met  alone,  in  the  evening,  at 
their  store,  to  take  counsel  of  one  another,  and  to 
ascertain,  as  accurately  as  possible,  their  real  con 
dition  and  prospects.  The  issue  was  of  the  most 
disheartening  character ;  for  a  hurried  examination 
of  their  books  showed  that  losses  had  already  swept 
away  their  entire  capital,  and  that  if  the  ratio  of 
losses  among  their  entire  list  of  customers  was 
maintained,  they  would  not  have  assets  sufficient 
to  pay  forty  cents  in  the  dollar  of  their  debts. 

And  so  that  terrible  calamity,  so  dreaded  by  all 
honorable  men  and  so  hard  to  accept — commercial 
failure — was  at  the  merchant's  door,  and  he  saw  no 
way  of  escape. 

"  We  may  save  something  from  the  wreck,"  sug 
gested  one  of  the  partners. 

"How?"  was  the  eager  question. 

The  means  were  proposed  by  which,  in  com 
pounding  with  creditors,  each  partner  might  retain 
enough  to  get  into  business  again. 

"  We  can  do  it  with  the  greatest  ease,  and  none 
be  the  wiser  for  it,"  said  the  partner.  "  I  can't  see 
that  we  are  called  upon  wholly  to  beggar  our 
selves.  This  disaster  is  not  from  any  fault  of  our 


PROVIDENCE.  319 

own.  If  we  could  get  in  what  is  due,  we  could  pay 
dollar  for  dollar,  and  have  a  large  surplus.  Why, 
then,  should  we  be  made  the  victims  of  circum 
stances?  I  believe  that  I  am  as  honest  as  any 
man  living ;  but  there  are  necessities  which  reach 
beyond  human  control." 

Then  followed  a  silent  pondering  of  the  plan  sug 
gested  ;  and  then  the  other  partner  simply  said, 

"  It  might  be  done." 

"  It  can  and  must  be  done,"  said  the  one  who 
had  opened  the  matter.  He  spoke  with  energy. 
"  Desperate  diseases  require  desperate  remedies. 
I,  for  one,  have  no  notion  of  being  driven  to  the 
wall  if  I  can  help  it ;  of  tamely  submitting,  when  a 
manful  struggle  will  save  me  from  total  wreck." 

"  The  plan  involves  subterfuge,"  our  merchant, 
the  senior  partner,  remarked. 

There  was  no  reply. 

"  And  concealment." 

"No  great  harm  in  that.  "We  are  not  called 
upon  to  exhibit  every  aspect  of  our  affairs  to  the 
world,"  was  answered. 

"  And  mercantile  dishonor." 

"  You  are  too  scrupulous,  sir,"  replied  the  advo 
cate  of  the  plan — "  altogether  too  scrupulous.  Mer- 


320  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN". 

cantile  honor  may  become  ideal  and  heroic.  Re 
member  that  we  owe  something  to  ourselves  and 
to  our  families.  Self-sacrifice  is  not  the  genius  of 
to-day.  We  are  not  required  to  throw  ourselves 
under  the  crushing  wheels  of  every  Juggernaut- 
car  a  contracted  public  opinion  may  send  rumbling 
through  our  streets.  No,  no ;  it  were  folly  to  let 
events  cripple  us  hopelessly,  while  there  are  time 
and  means  to  avert  such  a  direful  calamity.  Des 
perate  diseases,  as  I  have  said  before,  require  des 
perate  remedies.  Let  us  act  promptly,  and  thus 
save  ourselves  from  the  worst." 

The  merchant  was  tempted  by  the  specious  plan, 
and  urged  to  its  adoption  by  the  fearful  conse 
quences  that  impended.  But  the  temptation  proved 
his  quality. 

"  There  is  only  one  right  course  for  us,"  he  said, 
in  answer  to  his  partner's  earnest  attempt  to  draw 
him  over — and  he  spoke  in  a  sad  but  firm  voice 
— "  and  that  is  the  straightforward,  honorable, 
honest  one  of  making  a  fair  exhibit.  Anything 
short  of  this  may  seem  to  involve  a  present  good ; 
but,  depend  upon  it,  evils  worse  than  we  now  dread 
will  be  sure  to  meet  us  in  the  future,  if  we  yield  to 
dishonest  suggestions." 


PROVIDENCE.  321 

But  the  partners  were  against  liim,  and  the 
contest  proved  long  and  angry.  He  did  not  yield, 
however ;  and  without  unanimous  action  no  scheme 
of  fraud  could  be  consummated 

A  little  while  longer  the  struggle  continued; 
then  the  house  went  down  with  a  crash,  and  only 
with  their  lives,  so  to  speak,  did  the  partners  escape 
from  the  ruins.  Nothing  was  saved  from  the 
wreck  of  their  fortunes.  The  creditors  took  every 
thing,  under  a  general  assignment.  The  senior 
partner,  in  whom  the  highest  confidence  was 
placed,  they  offered  to  retain,  for  the  purpose  of 
settling  up  the  business  under  the  assignee;  and 
the  offer  was  gladly  accepted,  as  it  gave  at  least  a 
temporary  provision  for  his  family. 

Two  months  after  the  disastrous  event,  this  con 
versation  took  place  between  the  minister  and  his 
old  parishioner.  The  minister  had  called  to  see 
him  in  his  humble  home.  He  was  met  with  a 
Bmile  on  the  paler  face  of  the  reduced  merchant, 
and  with  a  warm  grasp  of  his  hand. 

"  Cast  down,  but  not  forsaken,"  said  the  minister, 
with  an  answering  smile,  and  in  a  tone  of  cheerful 
encouragement,  as  he  returned  the  earnest  pres 
sure. 

14* 


322  STEPS   TOWAKDS   HEAVEN. 

"  No,  not  forsaken,"  replied  the  merchant,  with 
feeling.  "  Not  forsaken,  but  sustained.  I  have 
passed  through  deep  waters ;  the  floods  roared 
about  me;  but  I  was  not  overwhelmed.  I  was 
tried  in  the  furnace,  but  the  fires  have  not  con 
sumed  me.  If  it  is  night,  the  whole  firmament  is 
glittering  with  stars." 

"  Were  you  really  Lappier  before  your  misfor 
tune,  than  you  have  been  since?"  inquired  the 
minister.  The  merchant  was  thoughtful  for  a  little 
while.  He  then  answered — 

"  It  may  sound  strangely,  but  I  have  since  had 
states  of  mind  that  were  nearer  happiness  than  any 
thing  enjoyed  before.  I  am  more  tranquil,  and 
patient,  and  resigned  to  the  will  of  Providence.  I 
can  look  deeper  into  my  own  heart,  and  understand 
its  impulses  better.  My  soul  more  clearly  appre 
ciates  the  higher  value  of  spiritual  and  eternal 
things.  Ah,  sir,  I  now  see  clearly  that  better  truth 
in  regard  to  Providence,  which  you  so  vainly 
sought  to  make  me  comprehend  a  few  short  weeks 
ago.  How  blind  and  rebellious  I  was !  How  dim 
had  my  vision  become,  through  love  of  the  world. 
But,  God  let  misfortune  fall  upon  me  for  my  good ; 
and  the  hard  discipline  is  doing  its  work.  When 


PROVIDENCE.  323 

the  crisis  came,  I  found  the  tempter  at  hand  in  my 
partners,  who  suggested  that  we  should  secure 
something  for  ourselves.  But,  I  was  able  to  resist ; 
arid  in  the  most  painful  ordeal  of  my  whole  life,  to 
maintain  an  undeviating  integrity.  How  many, 
many  times  since,  have  I  thanked  God  for  the 
strength  he  gave  me  in  that  hour  of  darkness  and 
sore  trial." 

"  Then,  you  are  really  happier  than  before,"  said 
the  minister. 

"  I  am  more  peaceful,  more  trusting,  more  desi 
rous  of  spiritual  attainments." 

"If  more  peaceful,  then  happier.  God  has 
permitted  these  natural  misfortunes  to  come  in 
blessing,  not  in  wrath.  And^  whenever  prosperity 
can  be  given  without  danger  to  your  soul,  it  will 
come  again.  Our  Heavenly  Father  gives  to  his 
children  of  natural  good,  all  that  they  can  receive 
without  endangering  their  eternal  welfare,  and 
takes  it  from  them,  whenever  the  discipline  of 
adversity  is  needed." 

"  It  is  plain  to  me,  now,  that.  T  needed  the  disci 
pline,"  said  the  merchant.  "  "Without  it,  I  never 
could  have  risen  into  my  present  views  of  provi- 
dence — never  could  have  seen,  I  fear,  that  all 


324:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

natural  events  are  but  a  series  of  effects  bearing 
upon  spiritual  and  eternal  things  as  ends  in  the 
Divine  economy.  And  without  such  a  perception, 
what  dark,  ignorant,  groping  creatures  we  are. 
How  full  of  mystery  is  everything  around  us.  How 
shadowed  by  doubts  and  vague  questionings  the 
uncertain  way  we  tread  with  halting  feet." 

"  Enough,"  said  the  minister.  "  The  lesson  God 
designed  to  teach,  you  have  quickly  learned.  Ad 
versity  has  come  as  a  priceless  blessing ;  for  you 
have  exchanged  gold  for  spiritual  wisdom — the 
excitement  of  natural  life,  for  heavenly  tranquillity 
— a  restless  love  of  gain  for  divine  repose.  Ah,  my 
brother;  our  Father  in  Heaven  is  better  to  his 
children  than  all  their  fears." 


THE  WAGES  OF  THE  POOB.          325 


XXX. 

THE  WAGES  OF  THE  POOE. 

"  How  much  is  it  ?"  asked  the  lady,  as  she  drew 
out  her  purse,  and  poured  from  it  into  her  hand  a 
little  pile  of  silver  coins.  Before  her  stood  a  pale, 
poorly-dressed,  weary-looking  woman. 

"  Seventy-five  cents,  ma'am,"  was  answered. 

"  Seventy-five  cents  !"  the  lady's  voice  expressed 
surprise.  "  No,  no,  Mary ;  I  can't  give  that  price 
for  three  quarters  of  a  day's  work.  You  did  not 
come  until  after  nine  o'clock,  remember.  If  you 
•want  full  wages,  you  must  do  full  work.  Sixty- 
two  is  all  that  I  can  give  you." 

"I'll  have  to  take  it,  then,"  said  the  woman, 
rather  sadly.  "  My  little  Eddy  was  sick,  and  I 
couldn't  get  away  as  early  as  I  wanted  to  this 
morning ;  but  I  have  worked  hard  all  day  to  make 
up.  I  think  I  have  earned  it." 


326  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  No  doubt  of  that  in  the  world,  Mary,"  broke 
out  the  cheerful  voice  of  the  lady's  husband,  who 
was  sitting  in  the  room ;  "  and  here's  twenty-five 
cents  extra  to  my  wife's  sixty-two.  She's  a  pru 
dent  woman,  and  tries  to  be  careful  of  my  money ; 
but  she's  over  particular  to-night,  it  strikes  me. 
Buy  Eddy  something  that  he  will  like,  as  you  go 
home,  out  of  the  odd  shilling,  and  say  that  I  sent 
it  to  him." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  I  thank  you,  sir !"  exclaimed 
the  poor  working  woman,  a  sudden  light  breaking 
over  her  face.  "  You  are  very  good  !" 

Then  she  retired,  and  husband  and  wife  were 
left  alone. 

"  That  wasn't  just  right,  Mr.  Lawson,"  said  the 
lady,  speaking  seriously. 

"I  know  it  wasn't,  and  therefore  I  corrected 
your  error  at  once,"  replied  Mr.  Lawson,  as  coolly 
as  if  he  had  not  really  understood  the  meaning  of 
his  wife's  remark. 

"  It  wasn't  right,  I  mean,  for  you  to  interfere  as 
you  did  just  now.  What's  the  use  of  my  trying  to 
be  economical  if  you  circumvent  me  in  this  way  ? 
Mary  was  not  entitled  to  full  day's  wages." 

"  I  think  she  was,"  said  the  husband. 


THE    WAGES   OF  THE   POOR.  327 

"  How  will  you  make  that  out  ?  Let  me  see 
your  calculation." 

"  I  can  make  it  out  in  several  ways ;  can  give 
you  tlie  figures,  and  prove  the  sum.  First,  then, 
she  alleges  that  she  worked  hard  all  day  to  make 
up,  and  thinks  she  really  earned  a  full  day's  wages. 
There's  the  sum  worked  out  clearly.  Now,  as  to 
proof  of  the  result,  I  would  first  offer  humanity ; 
next,  the  woman's  loss  of  strength  in  a  day's  hard 
toil,  for  she  looked  so  pale  and  weary  that  the  very 
sight  of  her  gave  me  pain ;  next,  her  poverty ;  for 
the  mother  of  three  children,  who  goes  out  to  do 
washing  and  house-cleaning  in  order  to  get  bread 
for  them,  must  be  very  poor;  next,  a  sick  child, 
who  may  need  medicine,  or  some  daintier  food 
than  usual.  Do  you  want  further  proof  that  she 
was  entitled  to  receive  full  pay  for  a  day's  work  ?" 

There  was  a  change  in  the  countenance  of  Mrs. 
Lawson  before  her  husband  had  finished  these  sen 
tences. 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,"  she  said.  "These 
poor  women  do  work  very  hard  for  what  they  get, 
a.nd  I  often  feel  sorry  for  them.  I'm  glad,  at  least, 
that  you  gave  Mary  the  extra  quarter.  Still,  Mr. 
Lawson,  we  cannot  afford  to  overpay  people  who 


328  STEPS   TOWAKDS   HEAVEN. 

work  for  us  if  they  are  poor.     A  shilling  here,  and 
a  shilling  there,  repeated  over  and  over  again, 
daily,  will  amount  to  a  serious  item  in  the  year 
and,  when  the  shillings  are  not  really  earned,  wil 
prove,  in  most  cases,  but  incentives  to  idleness." 

"  The  other  side  of  the  case,  my  dear,"  answered 
Mr.  Lawson,  "  and  very  well  stated.  But  let  us  be 
careful  in  our  transactions  with  these  poor  people, 
that  we  do  not  withhold  the  shilling  actually  due 
in  our  over-nice  calculations  as  to  the  time  they 
may  be  in  our  service.  At  best,  their  labor  is 
poorly  compensated.  They  toil  hard,  very  hard, 
for  the  small  sum  they  ask  for  services  rendered; 
and  we  can  always  better  afford  to  give  ten  extra 
shillings  in  a  week  than  they  can  afford  to  lose 
one.  Let  us  not  increase  our  comforts,  or  add  to 
our  possessions,  at  their  cost ;  but  let  them  be  ra 
ther  objects  of  our  care,  sympathy,  and  protection. 
The  Psalmist  says :  '  Blessed  is  he  that  considereth 
the  poor;  the  Lord  will  deliver  him  in  time  of 
trouble.'  There  is  a  vast  deal  more  to  gain  than  to 
lose,  I  take  it,  in  concessions  to  these  humbler 
children  of  our  common  Father." 

"Mrs.  Lawson  sighed  as  her  husband  ceased 
speaking.  His  words  brought  oat  from  her 


THE   WAGES    OF  THE   POOE.  329 

memory  more  than  a  single  instance  where  she 
had  paid  to  the  extremely  poor,  who  rendered  her 
service  for  hire,  less  than  the  price  demanded, 
under  the  allegation  of  an  excessive  charge  for 
work.  In  her  over-carefulness  about  what  was  her 
own,  she  had  withheld  pennies,  sixpences,  and  shil 
lings,  which  really  added  nothing  to  her  comforts, 
but  diminished  the  comforts  of  the  poor.  Coming 
back  upon  her  now,  these  memories  troubled  her. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  she  remarked,  looking  with  a 
sober  aspect,  into  her  husband's  face,  "  that  I  have 
not  been  altogether  just  in  these  matters.  But  you 
have  set  me  right.  I  will  try  to  be  more  consider 
ate  and  more  humane  in  future.  I  did  not,  really, 
perceive  the  meaning  of  what  Mary  said  about 
having  worked  hard  all  day  to  make  up  for  loss 
of  time,  nor  feel  the  allusion  to  the  sick  child,  or  I 
could  not  have  had  the  heart  to  withhold  that  shil  • 
ling.  Our  very  thoughtlessness  sometimes  leads  us 
into  wrong." 

"  There  is,  as  a  general  thing,''  remarked  Mr. 
Lawson,  "  a  disposition  to  reduce  still  lower  than 
their  present  low  rate,  the  wages  of  the  extremely 
poor,  especially  the  poor  who  earn  their  living 
among  housekeepers.  The  seamstress,  the  washer- 


330  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

woman,  and  the  day's-work  woman,  all  have  to  toil 
very  hard  for  their  meagre  wages  ;  and  the  dispo 
sition  is  to  take  off  the  sixpences  and  the  shillings 
whenever  there  is  an  excuse  for  doing  so,  instead 
of  a  generous  concession  in  their  favor.  I  remem 
ber  an  instance  of  this  kind  which  happened  to  fall 
under  my  observation  some  years  ago.  A  lady 
was  quite  indignant  at  what  she  was  pleased  to 
call  an  attempt  at  extortion  on  the  part  of  a  poor 
woman,  who  had  been  cleaning  house  for  her,  in 
charging  her  sixty-two  cents  a-day,  instead  of  fifty. 
The  poor  woman  said  that  she  always  received 
sixty-two  cents,  and  the  lady  declared  that  she 
never  paid  but  fifty  cents,  and  would  not  exceed 
that  sum  in  the  present  case.  And  fifty  cents  was 
all  she  did  pay.  I  noticed  the  dejection  of  the 
poor,  wronged  creature,  as  she  retired  from  the 
house,  and  could  not  but  feel  a  sense  of  indigna 
tion,  which  was  in  no  degree  lessened  when  I  saw 
the  lady  hand  the  shilling  she  had  gained  by  op 
pression  to  an  idle  daughter,  and  heard  her  say, 
'  Here,  Jenny,  is  a  shilling  I  have  saved.  You  can 
treat  yourself  to  an  ice  cream  to-morrow !'  " 

"Are  you  really  in  earnest?"  said  Mrs.  Lawson, 
looking  at  her  husband  with  a  doubting  air. 


THE   WAGES   OF   THE   TOOK.  331 

"  What  I  have  told  you  is  literally  true." 

"  Doesn't  it  seem  impossible  ?" 

"  It  is  wicked  and  disgraceful.  But  such  things 
are  of  daily  occurrence,"  replied  Mr.  Lawson. 
"  There  is  a  better  way,  however,  and  a  more 
Christian  spirit.  Let  us  walk  in  this  way ;  let  us 
encourage  this  spirit.  If  we  change  the  wages  of 
the  poor  in  anything,  let  it  be  to  increase,  not 
diminish  them ;  for  Heaven  knows  they  have  been 
reduced  enough  already  1" 


332  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 


XXXI. 

THE  DKEAM-WAKNING. 

"  WILL  you  discount  this  note  for  me  ?" 

The  question  was  asked  by  a  merchant,  in  the 
office  of  a  private  banker,  a  man  of  large  fortune, 
who  had  retired  from  business,  and  now  used  his 
capital  for  discounting  instead  of  in  trade. 

The  shrewd  money-lender  took  the  note,  and 
after  examining  the  face,  handed  it  back,  with  a 
shake  of  the  head,  and  a  very  firm  compression 
of  his  mouth. 

"  It  is  A  number  one,"  said  the  merchant,  with 
almost  an  amused  smile,  at  the  severe  prudence  of 
the  money-lender. 

"  I  have  no  question  as  to  that,"  was  replied. 
"  If  I  were  in  business,  I  should  not  hesitate  to 
sell  the  firm  to  any  reasonable  extent." 

"  Why,  then,  will  you  not  buy  their  note  ?" 

A  pleasant  light  came  into  the  money-lender's 


THE   DREAM  WARNING.  333 

face.  He  looked  shrewd,  knowing,  and  very 
self-complacent. 

"  I  was  in  market  the  other  day,"  said  he,  "  and 
as  I  stood  buying  some  fruit  at  a  woman's  stall,  a 
man,  in  going  "by,  was  crowded  against  a  basket 
standing  thereon,  which  fell  to  the  pavement.  It 
was  nearly  filled  with  eggs,  more  than  two-thirds 
of  which  were  broken.  *  Ah,  my  good  woman,' 
said  I,  'the  old  error  of  too  many  eggs  in  one 
basket.  If  you  had  placed  them  in  two  or  three 
baskets,  instead  of  one,  this  general  wreck  would 
never  have  occurred.'  In  my  business,  sir,"  con 
tinued  the  money-lender,  "  I  never  commit  the 
error  of  this  market-woman.  I  never  place  too 
many  eggs  in  one  basket.  Do  you  understand 
me?" 

"  I  believe  so,"  replied  the  merchant.  "  You 
already  have  enough  of  this  paper." 

"  Just  as  much  as  I  intend  buying.  When 
some  of  it  is  taken  up,  I  will  make  room  for 
more.  There  are  fixed  laws,  sir,  that  govern  me 
in  this  business,  and  I  never  depart  from  them. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  the  merchant,  smiling. 
"I  hope  you  will  never  get  too  many  eggs  in 
one  basket." 


334:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"No  fear  of  that.  If  a  basket  is  npset,  and 
the  eggs  in  it  broken,  I  shall  be  able  to  bear 
the  loss." 

The  merchant  withdrew,  and  the  money-lender 
turned  over  in  his  mind  the  word  just  spoken,  and 
felt  self-complimented  at  his  wise  caution.  "  "No — 
no" — he  repeated  over  and  over  again.  "They 
cannot  tempt  me  to  place  too  many  eggs  in  one 
basket.  I  am  too  old  and  prudent  for  that." 

This  figure  of  speech  seemed  to  please  the 
money-lender,  and  he  used  it  a  number  of  times 
during  the  day,  in  declining  good  business  paper 
that  was  offered. 

"  Have  I  put  too  many  eggs  in  one  basket, 
to-day?"  he  asked  of  himself,  as  he  sat  alone 
during  the  evening  that  followed,  counting  up, 
mentally,  his  gains,  and  looking  with  a  feeling  of 
pleasure,  at  the  unusually  large  aggregate.  "  Let 

me  see  ?  That  last  note  of  L &  O 's  came 

very  near  to  a  violation  of  the  rule.  There  are 
quite  enough  eggs  in  that  basket.  I  must  not 
venture  another  one.  But  the  temptation  of  two 
per  cent,  was  hardly  to  be  resisted  on  such  paper, 
which  all  regard  as  gilt-edged." 

It  was  now  over  five  years  since  our  money- 


THE   DREAM-WARNING.  335 

lender  withdrew  from  productive  trade,  and  nar 
rowed  down  his  intellect  and  his  efforts  to  the 
simple  business  of  buying  paper,  which  the  holders 
were  unable  to  get  done  in  bank.  During  that 
period  he  had  added  largely  to  his  wealth ;  while 
his  desire  for  accumulation  had  grown  stronger, 
and  manifested  itself  in  a  more  eager  reaching  out 
after,  and  drawing  in  of  the  gold  that  perishes. 
As  a  merchant,  he  had  been  liberal,  generous,  kind- 
hearted  ;  and  all  men  spoke  of  him  as  such.  But 
the  work  of  mere  money-getting,  outside  of  any 
productive  use  in  society,  had  brought  the  interiors 
of  his  mind  into  new  associations ;  and  his  heart 
was  steadily  hardening.  Every  day  the  circle  of 
his  thoughts  narrowed  itself;  every  day  his  heart 
stooped  lower  and  lower  in  adoration  before  the 
miser's  god.  Others  saw  the  change — spoke  of  it, 
and  regretted  it.  But,  as  he  grew  richer  and 
richer,  and  the  worshippers  of  riches  bent  to  him 
in  flattery,  he  imagined  himself  to  be  growing 
better. 

"  Too  many  eggs  in  one  basket,"  he  repeated  to 
himself,  as  he  sat  musing  in  his  luxurious  easy- 
chair  ;  never  for  once  thinking  of  the  young  mer 
chant,  without  bank  credit,  more  than  two-thirds 


336  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

of  whose  profits  on  a  sale  of  five  hundred  dollars 
he  had  clipped  off  a  six  months'  note  that  day ; 
a  note  as  good  as  any  he  had  bought  during  the 
past  week. 

"  Too  many  eggs  in  one  basket !  No — no.  I 
am  too  shrewd  for  that !"  Drowsily  was  this 
murmured,  as  he  laid  his  head  back  among  the 
cushions.  His  next  consciousness  was  in  another 
world.  He  dreamed  that  he  had  passed  through 
the  dark  portal  of  eternity,  and  that  to  him  the 
judgment  from  the  Book  of  his  Life  had  come — 
a  judgment  that  was  to  reveal  his  true  state,  and 
fix  his  everlasting  habitation  with  those  who  loved 
the  neighbor  as  themselves;  or  with  those  who 
loved  and  cared  only  for  themselves.  He  did  not 
find  himself  in  the  presence  of  an  august,  Divine 
Judge,  but  in  a  large  chamber,  with  translucent 
walls  and  ceiling,  where  were  gathered  a  small 
assemblage  of  people,  to  the  centre  of  which  he 
was  led  by  one  who  seemed  to  possess  a  singular 
power  over  him.  Here,  seated,  and  a  little  ele 
vated  above  the  rest,  were  two  beings — one  with 
a  countenance  of  heavenly  beauty,  and  the  other 
with  a  face  the  cruel  expression  of  which  caused  a 
shudder  to  go  thrilling  to  his  heart.  A  book  lay 


THE   DREAM- WARNING.  337 

open  before  them,  and  he  knew  it  to  be  the  Book 
of  his  Life,  wherein  were  written  every  purpose 
of  his  heart,  with  every  act  and  deed.  The  money 
lender  had  come  to  judgment. 

With  a  hopeful  countenance  the  angel  began 
turning  the  leaves  of  the  book,  upon  which  both 
her  eyes,  and  that  of  the  demon  were  fixed  with 
an  earnest  gaze.  The  period  of  childhood  showed 
a  fair  and  hopeful  record.  The  tender,  merciful, 
loving  impressions  made  upon  the  heart  of  her 
child  by  a  wise  and  good  mother,  who  looked  for 
ward  to  a  meeting  with  her  son  in  heaven,  were 
everywhere  visible.  The  budding  soil  gave  a  fair 
promise  for  the  fruit  and  flower. 

Early  manhood's  record  was  also  full  of  encour 
agement.  There  was  an  eager  looking  forwards 
into  life,  and  an  earnest  will  towards  success.  But, 
united  with  this,  were  generous  purposes  towards 
others,  and  great  humanitary  schemes  to  be 
wrought  out  for  the  world's  good,  when  the  money- 
power  to  work  should  come  within  his  grasp. 
There  were  light  and  hope  in  the  angel's  face,  as 
page  after  page  of  the  book  was  turned  ;  while  the 
demon  sat  dark  and  scowling. 

The  middle  period  showed  less  fairly,  as  to  the 

15 


338  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

ends  of  life — and  it  was  into  these  that  the  angel 
and  the  demon  looked  most  narrowly.  The  act  was 
never  judged  of  as  it  stood  alone — it  was  by  the 
motive  that  its  quality  was  determined. 

A  gentle  sadness  began  to  shadow  the  angel's 
beautiful  countenance,  while  dimly  seen  in  the 
demon's  face  was  the  light  of  triumph.  Many  acts 
of  benevolence ;  many  words  of  good  counsel  to 
others ;  many  declarations  of  noble,  generous,  un 
selfish  purposes  were  written  down ;  but  they  were 
seen  as  deeds  with  selfish  ends  for  prompters,  and 
words  that  were  only  from  the  "  teeth  outwards." 
More  and  more,  as  wealth  rolled  into  the  mer 
chant's  coffers,  and  he  gained  a  higher  and  higher 
place  in  the  good  opinions  of  men,  did  he  bury  his 
thoughts  in  selfish  purposes,  and  put  forth  his 
strength  for  himself  alone,  as  if  he  were  the  chief est 
thing  in  God's  creation.  His  name  was  on  the 
subscription  papers,  for  charitable  uses,  to  a  large 
amount ;  but,  when  the  angel  and  the  demon  went 
behind  the  record,  what  did  they  find  ?  A  generous 
desire  to  benefit  the  suffering,  or  help  the  weak  ? 
Alas,  no  !  They  saw,  instead,  an  extorted  benevo 
lence,  in  most  instances,  done  for  the  eyes  of  men, 
and  succeeded  by  a  self-complacent  gratulation,  in 


THE   DKEAM-WAKNTNG.  339 

the  loss  of  so  much  of  his  dearly-loved  gains,  fjmt 
"  charity  covers  a  multitude  of  sins  !" 

Sadder  and  sadder  grew  the  angel's  face; 
brighter  and  brighter,  with  an  evil  triumph,  the 
face  of  the  demon. 

At  last  came  the  closing  years  of  life,  when  the 
useful  merchant  sunk  down  into  the  eager  money 
lender.  Previous  to  this,  gleams  of  better  purposes 
would  sometimes  throw  a  hopeful  warmth  over  a 
page,  and  lighten  the  saddening  angel's  face.  But 
the  record  now  had  in  it  little  of  variation,  and  no 
passages  of  light.  Desire  moved  on  in  an  even 
current,  and  thought  had  free  course  under  the 
pressure  of  desire.  There  was  the  one  desire  to 
get  money,  and  the  one  thought  about  the  surest 
means.  The  face  of  a  man — the  form  of  a  man — 
the  step  of  a  man — but  quickened  his  avaricious 
impulses.  He  was  a  great  tumor,  absorbing  the 
rich  blood  of  trade,  and  growing  larger  and  larger, 
as  healthy,  working  organs  in  the  man  of  society 
became  weaker  from  impaired  vitality.  Gold  had 
become  the  god  before  whom  he  bowed  down  in 
daily  adoration.  He  loved  naught  else;  and 
though,  from  a  lingering  desire  to  appear  well  in 
the  eyes  of  his  fellow-men,  he  still  performed  some 


340          STEPS  TOWARPS  HEAVEN. 

apparent  good  acts ;  yet,  in  every  such  act,  there 
was  the  effort  to  compass  a  worldly  advantage  that 
marred  the  record  in  his  book  of  life.  Thus,  for 
instance,  he  had  given  liberally  to  the  erection  of 
churches,  but  only  when  they  were  to  be  located 
near  his  property,  the  value  of  which  would  be 
improved  thereby  far  beyond  the  sum  of  his  sub 
scription. 

As  the  last  page  of  the  book  was  turned,  the 
angel  breathed  a  deep  sigh,  and  faded  from  the 
money-lender's  vision ! 

"Too  many  eggs  in  one  basket!"  said  the 
demon,  in  a  voice  of  triumph,  as  he  bent  his 
malignant  face  so  close  that  his  hot  breath  almost 
suffocated  the  terrified  money-lender,  who  started 
into  wakeful  life  as  he  felt  himself  clutched  by 
tita  demon's  vice-like  hands.  Some  moments 
passed  before  his  wildly-throbbing  heart  calmed 
itself  down  to  its  wonted  even  pulsations. 

"  Only  a  dream — a  foolish  dream !"  he  said  to 
himself,  as  he  vainly  tried  to  rise  above  the 
depressed  state  of  feeling  which  the  mercifully 
sent  vision  had  left  behind. 

But  conscience  told  him  that  it  was  more  than  a 
Iream,  and  that,  while  in  all  worldly  prudence  he 


THE  DKEAM-WAKOTNG.  341 

was  wisely  careful  not  to  get  too  many  eggs  in  a 
single  basket,  in  matters  of  eternal  interest  he  had 
one  basket  only,  and  in  that  the  price  of  his  soul 
was  resting.  He  shuddered  as  the  thought  fixed 
his  mind,  and  overwhelmed  all  his  convictions. 

"  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the  whole 
world  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?  or  what  will  a  man 
give  in  exchange  for  his  soul  ?" 

It  seemed  like  the  voice  of  his  mother,  speaking 
back  to  him  from  the  years  of  childhood. 

"  God  help  me !"  he  said,  with  a  shudder.  "  I 
am  not  in  the  right  path !" 

Did  he  go  back  to  his  eager  money-getting  and 
money-lending?  "We  know  not.  The  dream  was 
sent  in  mercy,  and  let  us  hope  that  it  wrought  F  pon 
him  its  high  and  holy  mission. 


342  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 


XXXII. 
IN  THE  WORKSHOP. 

"  You  are  not  going  to  put  in  that  piece  of  wood, 
.Richard,"  said  one  workman  to  another. 

"  Yes,  I  am.  No  one  will  be  the  wiser  for  it," 
was  answered. 

"  But  some  one  may  be  wronged  by  it." 

"No  very  serious  wrong.  The  worst  that  can 
happen  will  be  a  rickety  drawer." 

"  But,  Richard,  if  you  will  take  the  trouble  to  go 
up  into  the  third  story,  and  select  a  better  seasoned 
piece  of  wood,  you  will  then  be  able  to  furnish  a 
drawer  that  will  always  run  smoothly." 

"I  am  not  going  to  take  that  trouble.  Mrs. 
Thompson  would  be  very  far  from  putting  herself 
out  as  much  for  me." 

"  It  doesn't  strike  me  that  you  have  anything  to 
do  with  Mrs.  Thompson's  disposition  towards  you 
in  the  case.  It  is  a  simple  question  of  right  and 


IN    THE    WORKSHOP.  343 

wrong.  You  are  at  work  on  a  bureau,  for  which 
she  has  agreed  to  pay  our  employer  a  certain  price. 
The  understanding  is,  of  course,  that  the  wood  and 
workmanship  are  to  be  of  good  quality.  Now, 
if  you  put  in  that  piece  of  wood,  you  will  wrong 
both  Mrs.  Thompson  and  our  employer.  She  will 
receive  a  defective,  troublesome  article,  and  he 
will  be  injured  in  his  business — for  Mrs.  Thompson 
would  hardly  engage  him  to  make  another  piece 
of  furniture  after  finding  herself  deceived.  Your 
doing  this  thing,  Richard,  is,  according  to  my 
notion,  a  violation  of  Christian  charity." 

"  I  don't  see  that  Christian  charity  has  anything 
to  do  in  the  matter.  Mrs.  Thompson  crowded 
down  in  the  price,  and  I  am  not  too  well  paid 
for  my  part  of  the  work.  So,  you  see,  I  can't 
afford  to  be  hunting  about  after  seasoned  wood. 
This  piece  comes  nicely  to  my  hand,  and  I  am 
going  to  use  it." 

"  I  have  nothing  more  to  say,"  replied  the  fel 
low-workman,  "  except  to  repeat  my  judgment 
of  your  act,  and  call  it  a  violation  of  Christian 
charity.  Our  praying,  singing,  and  BiblQ-reading, 
Richard,  will  not  help  us  heavenwards  unless  WG 
are  just  between  man  and  man.  The  Christian 


344  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

profession  is  nothing  without  the  Christian  life. 
Our  religion,  in  order  to  change  us  radically,  must 
descend  into  all  our  commonest  duties.  It  belongs 
as  much  to  the  shop  as  to  the  family,  and  as  much 
to  the  family  as  to  the  sanctuary.  If  you  put  in 
that  piece  of  wood,  knowing,  as  you  do,  that  it  will 
render  the  bureau  you  are  making  permanently 
defective,  you  will  hurt  your  own  soul." 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself  about  my  soul,"  was  the 
rather  short  reply.  "  I  will  take  good  care  of  that. 
If  you  hadn't  said  so  much  about  it — magnifying  a 
molehill  into  a  mountain — I  might  have  selected  a 
better  piece  of  wood ;  but  this  shall  go  in  now.  I'll 
risk  the  consequences." 

"  The  risk  may  be  greater  than  you  imagine.  It 
generally  is  in  all  such  cases,"  was  the  grave  reply. 

And  here  the  remonstrance  closed.  Richard 
Wheeler,  the  journeyman  cabinet-maker,  worked 
in  the  unseasoned  piece  of  wood,  and  went  on  to 
finish  the  bureau,  which  was  sent  home  at  the  time 
agreed  upon,  and  the  price  paid.  We  do  not  know 
whether  the  suggestions  of  his  fellow-workman 
remained,  with  him  or  not,  or  whether  the  unsea 
soned  piece  of  wood  troubled,  in  any  wise,  his 
conscience. 


IN   THE   WORKSHOP.  3i5 

Time  passed  on.  The  bureau,  which  had  been 
placed  in  the  chamber  of  Mrs.  Thompson,  gave 
good  satisfaction  for  a  time;  but  the  unseasoned 
piece  of  wood  failed  at  length  to  do  its  proper 
duty,  and  the  drawer  began  halting  in  its  work. 
The  disproportionate  shrinkage  of  one  side  of  the 
drawer  bent  all  the  parts  out  of  line,  and  so  the 
opening  and  closing  thereof  was  always  attended 
with  more  or  less  difficulty. 

Kichard,  the  journeyman  who  made  the  bureau, 
was  in  the  wareroom  one  day,  when  Mrs.  Thomp 
son  came  in,  and,  with  some  warmth  of  manner, 
said  to  his  employer — 

"  I  don't  think  you  have  dealt  fairly  by  me  in 
that  bureau,  Mr.  Cartwright." 

"Rather  a  grave  charge,  Mrs.  Thompson," 
replied  the  cabinet-maker.  "  Why  do  you  say  so?" 

"  You  hav'n't  made  it  of  properly  seasoned 
wood,  a  thing  for  which  I  particularly  stipulated," 
said  the  lady. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  madam  " — Mr.  Cartwright 
spoke  with  visible  indignation — "the  wood  was 
properly  seasoned." 

"  And  I  say  that  it  was  not,."  Mrs.  Thompson 
was  growing  excited.  "  Why,  there's  one  drawer 

15* 


316  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

% 

in  particular  so  all  awry  from  shrinkage  in  some 
parts  of  it  that  it  requires  more  humoring  to  get  it 
in  and  out  than  I  have  the  patience  to  give.  I'm 
tempted  some  days  to  have  the  whole  thing 
pitched  into  the  street.  It  would  be  a  disgrace  to 
the  poorest  cabinet-tmaker  in  the  city !" 

This  was  rather  more  than  Mr.  Cartwright  could 
bear.  He  lost  temper  entirely,  and  gave  Mrs. 
Thompson  so  bluff  a  reply,  that  she  went  off  in  a 
passion,  threatening,  as  she  did  so,  to  warn  all 
her  friends  against  the  cabinet-maker's  establish 
ment. 

"  Richard  made  a  hasty  retreat  from  the  ware- 
room  to  the  workshop.  His  state  of  mind  was  not 
one  to  be  envied.  Here  was  the  evil  fruit  of  his 
wrong  act ;  and  what  a  monstrous  production  from 
BO  small  a  seed  !  He  had  not  only  been  unjust  to 
Mrs.  Thompson,  but  had  seriously  injured  his  em 
ployer;  for  it  was  plain,  that  custom  would  be 
diverted  from  his  establishment  through  his  im 
proper  act. 

The  journeyman  carried  a  sober  heart  home 
with  him  at  the  close  of  that  day.  His  fellow- 
workman,  the  one  who  had  remonstrated  with  him 
tobout  putting  into  the  bureau  drawer  an  unsea- 


IN   THE   WORKSHOP.  347 

Boned  piece  of  wood,  called  for  him  after  supper  to 
go  with  him  to  a  religious  meeting ;  but  Richard 
declined.  For  the  first  time,  he  saw  clearly  the 
want  of  agreement  between  his  conduct,  in  this 
particular,  and  that  which  was  demanded  by  the 
divine  law  of  justice  from  man  to  man. 

"  Come !"  urged  his  fellow-workman. 

But  Richard  said,  "  ~No,  not  to-night,"  in  such  a 
resolute  way,  that  he  was  left  to  himself.  He 
passed  the  evening  in  a  very  unhappy  frame  of 
mind. 

On  the  next  Sunday,  he  attended  church  as 
usual.  He  was  still  troubled  in  his  thoughts  by 
what  had  occurred.  Singularly  enough,  it  seemed 
to  him,  that  almost  every  sentence  spoken  by  the 
preacher  had  a  more  or  less  remote  application  to 
himself.  Every  proposition  was  a  mirror  in  which 
he  could  see  his  own  distorted  image.  But  the 
closing  portions  of  the  sermon,  when  the  preacher 
gathered  his  generalities  together,  and  condensed 
them  into  specific  applications,  smote  him  with 
humiliating  convictions  of  wrong. 

"  No  man  can  be  a  Christian,"  said  the  minister 
"  who  is  not  faithful  in  his  common,  daily-life  pur 
suits.  The  judge  must  administer  justice  from 


348  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

equity,  and  not  from  favor  or  the  lure  of  bribes ; 
the  physician  must  regard  the*  life  and  health  of 
his  patient  above  all  other  considerations ;  the 
merchant  must  deal  justly,  and  the  mechanic  exe 
cute  his  work  in  all  things  faithfully.  It  will  not 
answer  to  disregard  these  things.  My  brother  " — • 
and  the  minister  warmed  in  his  manner,  as  he 
leaned  over  the  pulpit  and  looked,  as  it  seemed, 
to  Richard,  directly  into  the  pew  where  he 
sat — "  do  not  hope  to  reach  heaven  by  the  old 
way.  You  must  walk  in  another,  and  narrower, 
road.  Let  us  suppose  you  are  a  workman.  Now, 
what  is  Christianity  in  the  workshop  ?  You  must 
take  it  with  you  there,  remember.  You  cannot 
leave  it  behind  you,  go  where  you  will ;  for  it  is  no 
loosely-fitting  garment,  but  an  element  of  life.  Yes, 
you  must  take  it  with  you  into  the  workshop,  my 
brother.  Not  as  the  Bible,  in  your  hand ;  nor  as 
hymns,  to  make  the  air  melodious;  nor  as  pious 
talk  with  fellow-workmen.  No,  no.  Workshop 
Christianity  consists  in  a  religious  fidelity  to  your 
employer  and  his  customers.  If  you  neglect  or 
slight  the  work  you  are  paid  to  perform,  you  com 
mit  sin:  you  are  irreligious,  and  your  pious  acts 
will  go  for  nothing." 


IN   THE   WORKSHOP.  349 

What  further  the  preacher  said,  Richard  knew 
not.  He  passed,  in  his  application,  to  the  trader, 
manufacturer,  and  the  various  professions  in  life  ; 
but  his  thought  was  bound  by  the  artisan's  duty. 

"  A  sad  thing  happened  this  morning,"  said 
Richard's  wife,  on  his  returning  from  work  one 
day  in  the  following  week.  "  Mrs.  Thompson 
broke  a  blood-vessel,  and  now  lies  very  ill.  The 
doctors  have  but  little  hope  of  her -recovery." 

"  How  did  that  happen  ?"  asked  the  mechanic, 
with  a  sudden  sense  of  uneasiness. 

"  She  was  trying  to  push  in  a  drawer  that  didn't 
run  smoothly,  when  it  caught,  and  the  jar,  I 
believe,  caused  the  blood-vessel  to  break.  It  was 
a  bureau  drawer.  What's  the  matter,  Richard? 
You  look  pale.  Are  you  sick  3" 

His  wife  spoke  these  last  sentences  in  a  tone  of 
anxiety. 

"  I  don't  feel  very  well,"  he  answered ;  "  but  it's 
nothing  of  consequence.  Did  you  say  that  she 
was  thought  to  be  in  danger  ?" 

"  Yes.    She  lies  very  low." 

Richard  turned  his  face  away.  When  supper 
was  placed  before  him,  he  tried  to  eat,  in  order 
iliat  his  wife  might  not  see  how  deeply  he  was 


350  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

troubled;  but  only  a  few  mouthfuls  passed  his 
lips.  Silent,  and  apart  from  the  family,  he  sat 
during  the  evening ;  and  the  night  which  followed 
was,  for  the  most  part,  sleepless. 

On  his  way  to  work  next  morning,  Richard 
went  past  the  dwelling  of  Mrs.  Thompson.  He 
almost  feared  to  look  at  the  house  when  he  came 
in  sight,  lest  death-signs  on  the  door  should  give 
the  fatal  intelligence  of  her  dissolution.  He 
breathed  more  freely  when  he  saw  that  all  re 
mained  as  usual.  So  anxious  was  he,  that  he 
stopped  and  made  inquiry  as  to  her  condition. 

"  Something  better."  How  the  words  made  his 
heart  leap. 

"  Is  she  out  of  danger  ?"  he  asked,  almost  trem 
blingly. 

"  Oh,  no ;  but  the  doctor  speaks  encouragingly." 

Richard  went  on  his  way.  At  night,  as  he  re 
turned  homewards,  he  called  to  inquire  again. 

"  She  is  no  worse."  This  was  all  the  comfort  he 
received;  and  on  this  he  passed  another  restless 
night. 

"If  she  dies,  am  I  not  her  murderer?"  This 
was  the  thought  that  troubled  him  so  deeply,  and 
made  him  so  anxious  about  the  life  of  Mrs.  Thomp 


IN   THE   WORKSHOP.  351 

son.  It  was  more  than  a  week  before  all  danger 
seemed  passed ;  and  then  the  unhappy  workman 
breathed  more  freely.  How  the  thin,  white  face, 
and  feeble  steps,  of  Mrs.  Thompson  rebnked  him,  a 
month  afterwards,  as  he  met  her  one  day  in  the 
street !  He  could  not  rest  after  that,  until  he  had 
obtained  possession  of  the  bureau  drawer,  and 
adjusted  it  so  accurately  to  its  place,  that  it  might 
be  moved  in  and  out  by  the  hand  of  a  child.  In 
doing  this,  he  took  care  to  remove  the  defective 
piece  of  wood. 

"  Why  have  you  done  this  ?"  It  was  the  sud 
den  question  of  Mrs.  Thompson,  as  Richard,  having 
made  all  right,  was  about  leaving  the  house. 

He  was  confused. 

"  I  did  not  send  for  you  to  do  this." 

The  dark  eyes  of  Mrs.  Thompson  looked  out 
from  their  hoi  ow  sockets  upon  the  almost  startled 
workman. 

"  There  was  an  unseasoned  piece  of  wood  in  that 
drawer,"  said  Richard,  speaking  with  as  much 
calmness  as  he  could  assume.  "  I  wrongly  placed 
it  there,  and  I  alone  am  to  blame.  Mr.  Cartwright 
believed  that  every  part  of  the  work  was  of  sea 
soned  wood,  according  to  agreement.  He  never 


352  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

meant  to  wrong  you.  He  is  an  honest  man.  Oh, 
ma'am!  if  you  can  forgive  me,  do  so;  for,  since 
the  accident  to  yourself,  I  have  been  one  of  the 
most  wretched  of  men." 

"  I  can  do  no  less  than  forgive,"  answered  the 
lady,  gravely ;  "  and  I  hope  God  will  forgive  also ; 
for  you  have  been  the  agent  of  a  great  wrong." 

The  journeyman  cabinet-maker  retired,  with  a 
lesson  in  his  heart  that  it  was  impossible  ever  to 
forget.  After  that,  he  tried  to  bring  his  religion 
into  the  workshop;  and  he  was  successful  in  a 
good  degree.  It  was  then,  and  not  till  then,  that  he 
began  really  moving  heavenwards.  Before,  he  de 
pended  on  states  of  feeling ;  but  now  on  just  acts 
to  his  neighbor,  grounded  on  a  religious  principle 


THE   TWO   riCTUKES  353 


XXXIII. 
THE   TWO   PICTUKES. 

"  How  beautiful  1"  And  the  two  men  paused 
before  the  window  of  a  print-seller. 

The  picture  which  had  called  forth  from  one 
of  the  men  this  admiring  exclamation,  was  a 
showy  bit  of  landscape,  painted  for  eifect,  and  well 
calculated  to  deceive  an  unpractised  eye. 

"  I  must  inquire  the  price,"  said  the  speaker, 
whose  name  was  Godwyn,  and  he  drew  his  com 
panion  into  the  store. 

"  What  do  you  ask  for  that  landscape  in  the 
window  ?" 

"  Fifty  dollars,"  replied  the  picture-seller,  "  and 
it's  worth  a  hundred.  But  the  owner  wants 
money,  and  must  sell,  even  at  so  great  a  sacri 
fice." 

"Who  is  the  artist?" 

A  name  not  familiar  to  either  of  the  men  was 


354  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

given.  But,  as  they  were  only  posted  up  in  art- 
news  indifferently  well,  and  did  not  care  to  make 
their  ignorance  known,  no  further  question  was 
asked.  The  name  was  accepted  as  belonging  to 
an  artist  of  celebrity. 

"  I  must  have  that  picture,  Martin.  It  is  a  gem." 
Godwyn  spoke  aside  to  his  friend. 

"  We  have  a  companion  piece  by  the  same 
artist,"  said  the  picture  seller,  whose  ears,  all  on 
the  alert,  had  overheard  the  remark. 

"  Indeed  !     Let  us  see  the  two  together." 

The  paintings  were  placed  side  by  side. 

"  Charming ! — beautiful ! — exquisite  1"  were  the 
exclamations  with  which  their  exhibition  was 
greeted. 

"  I  will  take  one  of  them,"  said  Godwyn.  "  And 
you  the  other."  Looking  towards  liis  friend  Martin. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  answered  the  latter. 
"  The  pictures  are  certainly  very  tempting.  But  I 
am  not  just  sure  that  I  can  spare  fifty  dollars 
to-day  for  an  article  of  simple  luxury." 

"  They're  cheap  as  dirt,"  said  Godwyn.  "  Better 
take  one.  You'll  not  have  another  chance  like 
this  soon." 

But  Martin  hesitated,  debating  the  money-ques- 


THE   TWO    PICTURES.  355 

tion  involved,  and  finally  decided  to  let  the  com 
panion-piece  remain  where  it  was  for  the  present. 
Godwyn  paid  down  fifty  dollars,  and  ordered  one 
cf  the  pictures  sent  home. 

The  two  men  left  the  picture  dealer's  and  walked 
on,  Godwyn  elated  by  his  purchase,  and  Martin 
well  satisfied  at  having  successfully  resisted  the 
temptation  to  spend  the  sum  of  fifty  dollars  for  a 
painting,  when  he  had  other  use  for  his  money. 

"  You  will  regret  not  having  bought  that  pic 
ture,"  said  Godwyn.  "  It  is  a  gem,  and  is  offered 
at  half  its  value." 

"  I  love  pictures,"  was  answered.  "  They  are  to 
me  a  source  of  unalloyed  pleasure.  But  my  income 
is  yet  too  limited  to  permit  an  indulgence  of  this 
taste.  The  common  wants  of  life,  and  the  charities 
which  may  not  be  disregarded,  keep  me  without  a 
surplus  to  expend  in  the  merely  ornamental." 

"  I  am  no  better  off  than  you  are,"  said  Godwyn. 
"  But  a  portion  of  my  income  must  go  in  the  direc 
tion  of  beauty  and  ornament.  Bare  walls  are  my 
abhorrence" 

At  this  moment  a  cry  of  warning  reached  the 
ears  of  the  two  men,  and  looking  forward  along 
the  street,  they  saw  a  horse,  attached  to  an  empty 


356  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

wagon,  dashing  towards  them  at  a  frightful  speed. 
A  little  way  in  advance  stood  a  cart,  backed  up  to 
the  pavement.  Before  the  owner  of  this,  an  Irish 
man,  had  time  to  turn  his  horse,  the  runaway  was 
upon  him,  and  one  of  the  shafts  striking  his  poor 
beast  on  the  head,  killed  him  on  the  spot. 

"  Poor  fellow !"  said  Martin,  in  a  tone  of  pity,  as 
he  heard  the  Irishman  bewail  his  loss. 

"  Come,"  said  Godwyn,  drawing  upon  the  arm 
of  his  friend.  "  It's  a  mercy  for  the  poor,  half- 
starved  beast." 

But  Martin  stood  still,  and  began  to  ask  the 
Irishman  questions.  His  looks  corroborating  his 
replies,  satisfied  him  that  the  loss  he  had  just  met 
was  the  loss  of  means  for  getting  bread  for  his 
children.  The  man  was  in  deep  distress. 

"  I  can't  wait  here,"  Godwyn  spoke,  with  some 
impatience.  "  Come,  or  I  shall  have  to  leave  you. 
That  picture  will  be  home  before  I  get  there." 

"  Go  on,  then.  I  must  look  a  little  further  into 
this  case,"  said  Martin,  quite  in  earnest. 

"  Humph  !  You'll  have  your  hands  full  if  you 
stop  to  look  into  every  case  of  this  kind."  Godwyn 
spoke  a  little  contemptuously,  and  then  went 
forwards. 


THE   TWO   PICTDKE8.  357 

"  Ah,  Martin  !"  said  he,  as  the  latter  entered  his 
store  about  two  hours  afterwards,  "  How  comes 
on  your  Irishman  and  his  dead  horse  ?"  There  was 
an  amused  expression  on  his  face. 

"Badly  enough  at  present,"  was  answered. 
"  Poor  fellow !  The  death  of  his  horse  is  to  him 
indeed  a  calamity ;  like  the  burning  of  a  mechanic's 
shop  with  all  his  tools ;  or  the  sinking  of  a  mer 
chant's  ship,  wherein  was  all  his  fortune.  But  I 
think  we  can  put  him  all  right  with  the  world 
again,  and  at  a  very  small  cost  to  ourselves.  I 
propose  that  five  individuals  contribute  ten  dollars 
each,  and  buy  him  another  horse.  Here  is  the  list, 
I  have  put  down  my  name,  and  Gregg  has  fol 
lowed  suit.  You  will  make  the  third,  and  I  know 
who  to  calculate  on  for  the  fourth  and  fifth  sub 
scriptions." 

Martin  only  partly  unfolded  his  subscription 
paper,  for  a  strong  negative  came  instantly  into 
the  face  of  Godwyn. 

"  I'm  too  poor  to  make  ten-dollar  subscriptions 
for  the  purchase  of  cart-horses  for  beggarly  Irish 
men,"  he  answered.  "  If  I  once  undertook  that 
business,  I  would  soon  have  my  hands  full.  Take 
my  advice,  and  keep  your  money,  your  time,  and 


358  STEPS   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 

your  pleasant  feelings,  and  don't  waste  either  in 
ihe  thankless  task  of  collecting  money  to  pay  for 
dead  horses." 

But  Martin,  though  disappointed,  was  not  turned 
from  his  good  purpose.  He  succeeded  in  getting 
thirty-five  dollars  subscribed,  and  then,  adding 
fifteen  from  his  own  purse,  he  went  to  the  humble 
abode  of  the  poor  Irishman,  whom  he  found,  half 
Btupid  with  despondency,  amid  his  sorrowful  wife 
and  children. 

"  Come,  come,  Jimmy  Maguire  ?"  he  said,  cheer 
fully,  "  this  will  never  do.  Brighten  up,  man !" 

"  There's  no  brightening  up  for  me,  yer  honor," 
replied  Jimmy,  sadly.  "  Poor  Bkrny  is  kilt  dead," 
and  he  drew  his  hand  across  his  eyes.  "  The  cart's 
of  no  use  now,  and  if  I  was  to  die  for  it,  I  couldn't 
find  money  to  buy  another  horse.  Och !  yer  honor, 
and  what  is  to  become  of  us  all  ?" 

The  picture  that  Martin  looked  upon  in  that 
humble  abode  lay  all  in  deep  shadow.  There  was 
not  upon  it  a  single  gleam  of  sunshine. 

"  What  did  Barny  cost?" 

"  I  paid  thirty-five  dollars  for  him,  hard-earned 
money,  and  he  was  chape  at  that,  yer  honor." 

"  Find  another  horse  as  good,  or  even  a  little 


THE   TWO   PICTURES.  359 

better  than  Barny,  and  I  will  buy  him  for  you, 
Jimmy.  Some  kind  gentlemen  have  placed  money 
in  my  hands  for  that  purpose." 

Broad  dashes  of  sunlight  fell  instantly  on  the 
living  picture,  which  lay  a  moment  before  in 
deepest  shadow. 

"  Oh,  sir !  Is  it  indade  as  you  say  ?"  Jimmy 
caught  the  arm  of  Mr.  Martin,  and  looked  into  his 
face  almost  wildly. 

"  Just  as  I  say,  Jimmy  Maguire.  Find  the 
horse,  and  I  will  make  him  yours." 

From  the  valley  of  grief  and  despair  to  tl  o 
mountain-top  of  joy,  the  Irishman's  household 
passed,  as  by  a  single -stride.  They  overwhelmed 
their  benefactor  with  noisy  gratitude,  and  placed 
him  at  once  high  in  the  calendar  of  saints. 

That  evening  Mr.  Godwyn  sat  alone  in  his 
parlor.  The  picture  was  on  the  wall,  but  his  eyes 
were  already  more  than  half  satisfied  with  its 
beauty,  and  ceased  to  turn  themselves  towards  it 
for  pleasure.  A  friend  had  been  invited  home  at 
tea  time  to  look  at  this  picture.  He  had  an  artist's 
eye,  and  knew  a  good  painting  from  a  bad 
one.  Unfortunately  for  Mr.  Godwyn,  he  detected 
glaring  faults  in  the  landscape,  and  did  not  hesitate 


360  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

to  pronounce  it  a  fourth-rate  affair,  and  dear  at 
the  price  which  had  been  paid.  Mr.  Godwyn  was 
unhappy. 

On  the  same  evening  sat  Martin  alone,  gazing 
at  a  picture,  the  sight  of  which  gave  him  inexpres 
Bible  pleasure.  It  was  not  hanging  upon  the  parlor 
walls,  inclosed  in  gilded  frame,  but  grouped  in  his 
thought,  and  vivid  as  life  itself.  "We  need  not 
describe  this  picture.  The  reader  knows  that  it 
represented  the  poor  Irishman  and  his  delighted 
family.  Imagination  had  painted  it  in  richest 
colorings,  and  memory  was  enshrining  it  in  peren 
nial  beauty.  There  was  no  power  in  time  to  rob 
that  picture  of  its  charming  freshness.  Its  posses 
sion  could  not  bring  a  reproving  thought ;  no  critic 
was  skilled  enough  in  art  to  find  a  defect,  and  thus 
lessen  the  owner's  appreciation.  It  was  worth  a 
thousand  such  pictures  as  the  one  his  friend  had 
already  ceased  to  value. 

The  lesson,  reader,  is  for  us  all. 

If  we  were  as  ready  to  hang  the  chambers  of  our 
minds  with  beautiful  pictures,  as  we  are  the  walls 
of  our  houses,  what  pleasures  would  we  lay  up  in 
store  for  the  time  to  come.  As  we  grow  older,  we 
insensibly  fall  into  the  habit  of  looking  inwards. 


THE   TWO   PICTURES.  361 

"We  see  more  with  the  eyes  of  the  mind  than  we  do 
with  the  eyes  of  the  body— oftener  gaze  upon  the 
pictures  that  cluster  on  memory's  walls,  than  upon 
those  which  hang  on  the  walls  of  our  dwellings. 
Oh  !  let  us  then  give  beauty  and  happiness  to  the 
future  by  daily  acts  of  kindness — by  tender  chari 
ties — by  deeds  of  human  love.    These  will  group 
themselves  into  pictures,  upon  which,  as  years  glide 
away,  and  the  eyes  look  more  and  more  inwards, 
we  shall  gaze  with  purest  delight ;  for  time  cannot 
deface  them,  neither  will  familiarity  rob  them  of  a 
living  interest.     And  these  are  the  pictures  which 
are  not  left  hanging  upon  walls  that  shall  know 
his  presence  no  more,  when  a  man  lays  down  the 
burdens  of  natural  life.     He  takes  them  with  him, 
as  he  takes  the  precious  silver  of  divine  truth,  and 
the  fine  gold  of  celestial  love ;  and  they  will  help 
to  make  beautiful  the  mansion  prepared  for  him 
above.      Good  deeds    are  the  stepping-stones  to 
heaven. 


16 


362  STEPS   TOWABDS   HEAVEN. 


XXXIV. 
TEMPTATION. 

"  IF  it  wasn't  for  temptation,"  said  a  young  con 
vert,  speaking  to  one  who  had  been  many  years 
trying  to  walk  in  the  narrow  way,  "  I  could  get 
along  very  well.  But  the  enemy  is  always  taking 
me  at  unawares.  I  start  out  in  the  morning,  re 
solved  that  my  walk  and  conversation  shall,  in  all 
things,  adorn  my  profession;  but  ere  I  am  half 
through  the  day,  temptations  assail  me,  and  I 
fall." 

"  I  trust  not,  my  young  brother,"  was  the  gravely 
spoken  reply.  "To  fall  in  temptation  is  a  most 
dreadful  thing.  Every  man  who  is  regenerating 
falls  info  temptations.  Without  them,  we  could  not 
know  the  evil  qualities  of  our  hearts,  nor  be  able 
to  rise  above  them  into  the  life  of  good  affections. 
*  Count  it  all  joy,'  says  the  Apostle  James,  '  when 
ye  fall  into  divers  temptations ;  knowing  this,  that 


TEMPTATION.  363 

the  trying  of  your  faith  worketh  patience.'  And 
again,  lie  says :  '  Blessed  is  the  man  that  endureth 
temptation.'  It  is  by  means  of  temptations  that 
spiritual  life  is  formed,  and  through  the  conflicts 
that  temptations  bring  that  this  life  gains  manly 
vigor.  It  is  not  falling  into  temptation  that 
harms  us,  but  falling  in  temptation — not  the  con 
flict,  but  the  loss  in  battle.  We  must  conquer,  if 
we  would  have  peace  and  rest.  Can  you  not  see 
that,  my  brother  ?" 

"I  see  it,",  was  answered  in  a  troubled  voice. 
"  But  your  words  form  themselves  into  sentences 
of  condemnation.  Alas!  I  fall  in  every  tempta 
tion." 

"  Do  not  hastily  write  bitter  things  against  your 
self,"  was  the  encouraging  response  to  this.  "  Per 
haps  it  is  not  so  bad.  If  you  will  confide  to  me  a 
day's  experience,  perhaps  I  can  give  you  some 
aid,  and  some  encouragement," 

"  Most  gladly ;  for  I  am  in  need  of  help.  This 
morning,  before  I  left  my  room,  I  prayed  most 
fervently  that  I  might  be  kept  stainless  through 
the  day — that  a  guard  might  be  set  upon  my  lips, 
and  that  all  my  actions  might  do  honor  to  His 
name.  Conscious  of  my  own  weakness,  I  wished 


364:  STEPS   TOWAKD8   HEAVEN. 

to  depend  on  Him  solely ;  and  so  prayed,  that  He 
would  substitute  His  strength  for  my  weakness. 
Thus  armed,  as  I  thought,  I  went  forth ;  but,  ere 
the  first  hour  had  passed,  I  fell.  A  sudden  assault 
upon  my  feelings  was  repelled  by  sharp  words, 
instead  of  a  meek  reply ;  and  so  I  dishonored  my 
Lord." 

"  Will  you  state  the  occasion  ?" 

"  It  happened  in  this  wise.  I  was  attending  upon 
a  customer  who  was  captious  and  troublesome. 
She  annoyed  me  greatly  by  some  of  her  remarks. 
At  last  she  called  my  word  in  question,  which 
threw  me  off  my  guard,  and  extorted  an  angry 
response.  Of  course,  she  got  angry  in  return,  and 
left  the  store.  It  made  me  unhappy  for  the  day. 
Next,  I  was  betrayed  into  light  and  trifling  conver 
sation  ;  and  next,  so  far  forgot  myself,  as  so  indulge 
in  evil  speaking  and  uncharitableness.  Then  I 
would  discover  that  my  thoughts  were  running  on 
worldly  and  forbidden  things ;  and  once,  I  actually 
caught  myself  working  out  a  secret  scheme  for 
overreaching  in  trade.  I  was  so  shocked  at  this, 
that  I  felt  almost  like  abandoning  my  Christian 
profession.  Isn't  it  dreadful  to  think  of  ?  I  believed 
my  heart  changed ;  but  now  am  sorely  afraid  that 


TEMPTATION.  365 

I  am  worse  instead  of  better.  Oh,  these  tempta 
tions  !  Why  is  it  that  we  are  subjected  to  them?" 

"It  is  by  temptation  that  our  evil  quality  is 
revealed  to  us,"  was  mildly  answered.  "  Now,  as 
I  regard  your  experience  during  the  day,  I  think 
you  have  reason  to  be  thankful  for  the  occurrences 
which  have  shown  you  that  there  are  things  in 
your  heart  which  must  he  removed  ere  you  can 
advance  in  the  regenerate  life  ?" 

"  But,  I  fell  in  temptation,"  said  the  young  man, 
in  a  troubled  tone  of  voice. 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that.  Temptation  is  an 
allurement  to  sin — and  sin  is  some  violation  of 
God's  law ;  and  we  fall  in  temptation,  when  the 
right  and  the  wrong  are  both  clearly  presented  to 
our  minds,  and  in  freedom  to  do  the  right  or  the 
wrong,  we  do  the  wrong,  because  our  natural  affec 
tions  love  it.  Now,  let  us  try  your  actions  to-day 
by  this  rule.  First,  as  to  the  angry  words  to  a 
troublesome  customer.  "Would  you  have  said  them, 
if  you  had  taken  time  for  reflection  ?" 

"No.  I  was  pained  the  moment  I  gave  them 
utterance." 

"  Enough ;  the  pain  showed  the  spiritual  vitality. 
If  you  had  felt  pleased  at  having  wounded  or  an- 


366          STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

noyed  the  person,  the  case  would  have  been  differ 
ent;  and  if  you  have  resolved  to  be  still  more 
guarded  in  future,  the  lapse  on  this  occasion  is  only 
a  stepping-stone,  as  it  were,  to  better  conditions  of 
mind.  Both  you  and  the  lady,  it  strikes  me,  will 
gain  something  by  the  incident.  And  let  me  help 
you  to  look  a  little  deeper.  Which  gave  you  most 
pain,  a  consciousness  of  having  wronged  the  lady, 
or  of  appearing  unmanly  in  her  eyes  ? — of  having 
sinned  before  God,  or  of  having  disgraced  yourself 
before  men?  Get  at  the  truth,  if  possible." 

The  young  convert  turned  his  thoughts  inwards, 
in  close  self-examination. 

"  You  have  helped  me  to  look  deeper," — he  lifted 
a  pair  of  sober  looking  eyes  to  the  face  of  his  friend 
— "  but  I  do  not  like  what  I  see." 

"Why?" 

"  It  was  not  the  sin  that  really  troubled  me.  I 
thought  more  of  man's  estimate  than  God's." 

"  Which  was  wrong." 

"  Oh,  yes." 

"  So  much  really  gained  by  this  loss  of  temper 
Can't  you  see  that  the  trial  was  for  your  good,  and 
the  fall,  in  a  sudden  assault,  ere  you  had  time  to 
buckle  on  your  armor,  permitted,  in  order  that  you 


TEMPTATION.  367 

might  be  enabled  to  see  deeper  into  your  heart. 
You  are  on  your  feet  again,  and  stronger  than 
before. 

"The  next  thing  complained  of,  is  light  and 
trifling  conversation ;  and  the  next,  evil  speaking ; 
then  your  thoughts  ran  on  worldly  and  forbidden 
things.  Now,  as  to  the  light  and  trifling  conver 
sation,  I  have  only  to  say,  that  religion  does  not  bind 
a  man  to  solemn,  speech  at  all  times,  and  in 
all  places.  Pleasant  words  are  not  evil,  unless  they 
involve  some  hurtful  thing,  as  what  is  obscene, 
wicked,  or  profane — then  they  have  a  soul-destroy 
ing  quality.  Bring  your  conversation  to  this  test 
always.  As  to  the  evil  speaking,  and  pondering 
on  forbidden  things,  they  are  to  be  repented  of. 
If  the  discovery  has  pained  you,  that  is  another 
advance  in  the  right  direction.  But,  the  most 
serious  discovery  you  have  made  during  the  day, 
is  the  fact,  that  dishonesty  lurks  in  your  heart. 
Here  was  a  real  temptation,  but,  thanks  be  to  God, 
who  giveth  us  the  victory,  you  were  able  to  meet 
the  enemy  of  your  soul  on  the  very  threshold, 
and  hurl  him  back  with  more  than  a  giant's 
strength.  Now,  think  for  a  moment,  my  young 
friend,  and  then  say  whether  the  experiences  a 


868  gTErS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

*tfc 

little  while  ago  complained  of  so  bitterly,  are  not 
really  the  day's  stepping-stone  towards  heaven? 
Are  you  not  wiser,  and  stronger  than  when  the 
morning  dawned  ?  Is  not  the  way  plainer  ? 

"  Temptations  help  us  onwards,  if  we  but  over 
come  in  them ;  because  they  are  revelations  of  our 
evil  qualities,  the  existence  of  which  we  could  not 
know  without  them.  But  if  in  the  strife  we  fall, 
then  we  grow  worse  instead  of  better ;  then  our 
steps  lead  downwards  instead  of  upwards.  Your 
morning  prayer,  to  be  kept  from  evil  during  the 
day,  is  well ;  but  do  not  let  the  utterance  of  this 
prayer  lead  you  to  neglect  watchfulness  for  a  sin 
gle  moment.  Prayer  will  not  weaken  your  ene 
mies,  but  render  them,  it  may  be,  more  determined 
and  malignant.  Watch  through  all  the  succeeding 
hours  of  the  day,  and  keep  your  armor  tightly 
girded.  Be  ready  for  sudden  assault,  or  stealthy 
inroad ;  and  then,  as  a  true  Christian  warrior,  you 
ehall  come  off  victorious." 

"  Thanks  !  thanks  1"  was  the  earnest  reply. 
"  You  have  helped  me  wonderfully.  I  see  clearer, 
and  feel  both  strength  and  encouragement.  I  have 
not  really  fallen  in  temptation,  but  am  stronger 
for  the  brief  conflicts." 


TEMPTATION.  ^     369 

"These,"  said  the  more  experienced  Christian 
soldier,  "  are  but  light  skirmishings  before  the 
shock  of  battle.  Your  real  temptations  are  in  the 
future;  but  you  will  not  be  admitted  to  these 
until  you  have  overcome  the  outposts  and  van 
guards  of  the  enemy.  Then  will  come  the  fiercer 
struggles  and  wilder  conflicts  of  the  strong  man. 
Now  you  have'  only  the  child's  strength,  and  none 
but  feebler  foes  are  suifered  to  approach ;  but  as 
you  grow  up  towards  the  full  stature  of  a  Christian 
hero,  the  strongest  and  most  malignant  enemies  of 
your  soul  will  array  themselves,  and  then  you  must 
conquer.  Fear  not ;  for  divine  courage  and  divine 
skill  will  be  yours,  if  you  go  bravely  into  the 
fight;  and  when  you  have  conquered,  there  will 
be  rest  and  peace.  Count  it  all  joy,  therefore, 
when  you  fall  into  divers  temptations ;  for  they  are 
the  trials  of  your  faith,  and  the  means  by  which 
you  are  enabled  to  put  oif  the  old  man  of  sin,  and 
to  put  on  the  likeness  of  the  new  man,  Christ 
Jesus  our  Lord." 


16* 


370  STEPS   TOWARDS   UEAVEN. 


XXXV. 
AT   HOME. 

A  MAN'S  "  walk  and  conversation  "  at  home  give 
always  the  surest  test  of  his  profession.  At  home, 
few  are  dissemblers.  The  real  quality  manifests 
itself  without  disguise.  If  a  man's  wife,  children, 
and  servants,  show  no  respect  for  his  religious 
character,  you  may  be  pretty  sure  that  he  is  self- 
deceived,  or  a  hypocrite.  In  other  words,  that  he 
is  trying  to  get  to  heaven  by  a  mere  outside  ob 
servance  of  pious  forms,  instead  of  through  a 
denial  of  self-love,  and  the  cultivation  of  heavenly 
affections. 

Mortimer  Grand  had  a  very  pious  way  with 
him.  He  was  much  inclined  to  conversation  on 
religious  subjects;  fond  of  doctrinal  discussions, 
and  much  concerned  about  his  neighbors'  fidelity 
in  spiritual  things.  Most  persons  thought  him  a 
good  man — some  a  very  good  man ;  but  the  few 


AT  HOME.  371 

who  came  in  closer  contact,  and  felt  the  quality  of 
his  business  life,  held  rather  a  different  opinion. 
They  saw  that  he  was,  for  the  most  part,  eagerly 
bent  on  securing  personal  advantage;  and  this 
even  to  the  injury  of  others. 

But  it  is  in  his  home  life  that  we  design  testing 
the  religious  quality  of  Mr.  Grand.  At  home,  shut 
out  from  the  world's  observation,  he  could  lay  off 
the  assumed  external,  and  act  in  all  things  just  as 
he  felt.  If  a  tyrant  in  heart,  he  could  act  the 
tyrant ;  if  impatient  at  light  annoyances,  he  could 
be  impatient ;  if  inclined  to  selfish  appropriation, 
there  was  none  to  prevent  his  doing  as  he  pleased. 
He  could  enjoy  the  luxury  of  being  himself,  from 
inmost  affection  to  uttermost  act. 

The  day  had  closed,  and  in  no  very  good 
humor — for  all  things  had  not  shaped  themselves 
as  natural  affections  desired — Mr.  Grand  bent  his 
steps  homewards.  On  the  way  he  met  a  friend. 
They  stopped  and  exchanged  salutations.  Mr. 
Grand's  face  became  almost  radiant  with  smiles 
as  he  responded  to  the  remark — 

"  The  good  work  goes  bravely  on." 

"  Bravely  and  gloriously !"  was  his  reply.  "  It 
is,  indeed,  a  time  of  refreshing  from  the  hand  of 


372  STEPS   TOWARDS    HEAVEN. 

the  Lord.  The  signs  of  His  presence  are  every 
where." 

Then  they  shook  hands  witli  ardor,  and  parted. 
For  a  little  way,  the  glow  of  enthusiasm  remained 
with  Mr.  Grand;  then,  as  home  drew  near,  the 
warmth  of  his  feelings  subsided ;  and  by  the  time 
his  feet  were  crossing  his  own  threshhold,  his  state 
was  entirely  changed. 

"  No  light  in  the  passage,  as  usual !"  he  said, 
fretfully,  as  he  closed  the  street  door  behind  him. 

Even  as  he  spoke,  the  faint,  yellow  gleam  of  a 
match  broke  suddenly  out  of  the  darkness,  and  in 
the  next  moment  the  strong  glare  of  a  gas  lamp 
blazed  around  him.  It  was  the  work  of  his  wife. 

"  Humph  !  it's  always  so !"  growled  Mr.  Morti 
mer  Grand. 

"  Yes,  it  is  always  so,"  replied  Mrs.  Grand,  her 
tone  of  voice  in  no  wise  more  amiable  than  that  of 
her  husband. 

"  What's  always  so  ?"  was  demanded. 

"  Tour  temper  when  you  come  home." 

This  was  severe ;  and  Mr.  Grand  was  irritated, 
rather  than  rebuked.  So  he  went  stalking  up 
stairs  to  the  sitting-room,  and  entered  among  the 
children  like  a  cloud  instead  of  a  sunbeam.  There 


AT   HOME.  373 

was  a  sudden  hushing  of  voices,  and  a  shrinking 
away  at  his  approach.  In  the  large  cushioned 
rocking-chair,  sat  little  Frances,  whose  loving  heart 
was  always  going  out  in  search  of  love.  She  lifted 
her  blue  eyes  to  her  father's  face,  as  he  approached 
her,  with  a  half-timid,  half-hopeful  expression. 
But  he  merely  swept  her  from  the  chair  with  his 
hand,  and  sat  down  without  a  gentle  word  or 
glance  of  affection. 

Dear  little  tender  thing  !  The  roughness  and  the 
disappointment  were  too  great  for  her.  Tears 
came ;  sobs  convulsed  her  tiny  frame ;  and  then 
passionate  grief  broke  in  cries  upon  the  air. 

"Take  that  child  from  the  room!"  said  Mr. 
Grand,  sternly,  as  his  wife  entered. 

"What's  the  matter  with  her?"  inquired  the 
mother. 

"  It's  more  than  I  can  tell.  She's  always  crying 
about  something.  But,  I  won't  have  this  din  about 
my  ears.  It's  intolerable." 

Mrs.  Grand  took  the  child  up  in  her  arms,  and 
pressed  her  head  down  against  her  breast,  tenderly. 

"  What  ails  you,  dear  ?  Stop  crying,  and  tell 
me."  Mrs.  Grand  pressed  her  lips  to  the  ear  of 
her  child. 


374  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  Papa."    It  was  all  the  little  mouth  could  say. 

"  Papa,  what  ?"    Whispered  the  mother. 

"  Papa  hurt  me,"  was  answered,  amid  quivering 
sobs. 

And  that  was  just  the  truth ;  and  just  as  the 
child  felt  it.  She  did  not  mean  to  convey  to  her 
mother  any  impression  beyond  the  truth.  Her 
little  heart  was  hurt. 

"  That  is  not  so !"  And  Mr.  Grand  started  to 
his  feet.  "  How  dare  you  tell  a  lie !"  And  he 
moved  rapidly  across  the  room.  The  frightened 
child  shrunk  closer  to  her  mother,  and  hushed  her 
crying.  Mr.  Grand  took  hold  of  her  slender  arm 
with  the  tight  grip  of  passion,  and  attempted  to 
remove  her;  but  Mrs.  Grand  would  not  permit 
this.  She  was  not  going  to  trust  her  precious  little 
one  to  the  tender  mercies  of  an  angry  man,  whose 
hard  spirit  had  bruised  hers  from  the  beginning. 
The  result  of  former  contests  with  his  wife,  warned 
Mr.  Grand  not  to  persist  now  ;  and  so,  after  scowl 
ing  upon  her  for  some  moments,  he  turned  away 
and  went  back  to  his  seat  in  the  large  rocking- 
chair,  muttering  something  in  an  undertone. 

For  ten  minutes  Mr.  Grand  sat  without  speaking 
his  chin   drawn  down  upon  his  breast,  and  his 


AT   HOME.  375 

countenance  wearing  a  most  repulsiye  aspect. 
Then  lie  ordered  one  of  the  children  to  be  still,  in 
a  tone  of  harsh  rebuke.  Ten  minutes  more  of 
moody  silence  followed. 

"  If  supper  isn't  ready  soon,  I  shall  go  off  with 
out  it."  Mr.  Grand  spoke  suddenly. 

"You  didn't  say  you  were  going  out."  Mrs. 
Grand  arose  and  moved  towards  the  door  of  the 
room.  "  If  you  had,  I  would  have  hurried  tea." 

"  Supper  ought  to  have  been  ready  half  an  hour 
ago.  I've  said,  a  hundred  times,  that  I  wished  my 
meals  always  ready  by  stroke  of  the  clock." 

Mrs.  Grand  went  down  stairs,  leading  Frances, 
who  kept  close  to  her  side.  Nearly  ten  minutes 
more  elapsed,  before  everything  was  on  the  table. 
Ere  half  that  time  had  expired,  Mr.  Grand  had 
commenced  walking  the  floor  of  the  sitting-room 
with  impatient  footsteps. 

"  Father  !"  A  voice  and  hand  arrested  his  at 
tention. 

""Well,  what's  wanted?"  Mr.  Grand  stopped 
and  looked  down  with  closer  contracting  brows. 

"Lend  me  your  knife,  father,  to  sharpen  this 
Btick?" 

"  I  shall  dc  no  such  thing.  You  broke  the  last 
knife  I  had."  And  Mr.  Grand  pushed  his  little 


376  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

son  away,  who,  made  angry  by  the  rebuff,  crossed 
the  room  to  where  his  older  brother  was  writing 
out  an  exercise,  and  from  sheer  wantonness,  bora 
of  bad  feelings,  pushed  his  elbow  and  caused  him 
to  spoil  half  an  hour's  work.  This  outrage  could 
not  be  borne ;  the  brother  turned  and  struck  him 
in  the  face.  A  loud  cry  followed,  when  the  father, 
catching  up  the  boy  who  had  dealt  the  blow,  pun 
ished  him  with  great  severity,  and  then  sent  him 
off,  supperless  to  bed.  He  made  no  inquiry — 
stopped  for  no  investigation ;  but  meted  out  sum 
mary  punishment,  because  that  was  in  closest 
agreement  with  his  feelings. 

"When  the  tea  bell  rung,  at  last,  he  went  stalking 
down  stairs,  the  children  following  in  a  wild 
scramble. 

"  Silence !"  He  demanded  in  a  tone  of  stern 
authority,  as  he  sat  down  to  the  table.  A  grace 
was  then  said,  when,  helping  himself,  Mr.  Grand 
left  his  wife  to  help  the  children.  The  toast  was  a 
little  burnt,  and  he  scolded ;  his  tea  wasn't  sweet 
enough,  and  he  called  for  more  sugar,  with  a 
frown ;  the  butter  didn't  suit  his  taste,  and  he 
spoke  so  sharply  about  it  to  his  wife,  that  tears 
came  into  her  eyes.  After  eating,  with  a  good 


AT   HOME.  377 

appetite,  Mr.  Grand  left  the  table,  saying,  as  be 
did  so,  tbat  be  was  going  out  and  wouldn't  be 
borne  until  after  ten  o'clock. 

"  Henry !"  Mrs.  Grand  arose  from  tbe  table, 
and  followed  ber  busband  into  tbe  passage. 

"  Well,  wbat  do  you  want  ?" 

"  I  wish  you  could  stay  home  this  evening.  I 
was  going  to  ask  you,  particularly." 

"  Stay  at  home !  What  for  ?"  Mr.  Grand  knit 
his  very  flexible  brows,  as  he  always  did  when  not 
pleased. 

"  Edward  is  not  getting  on  right  at  school.  He 
hasn't  had  bis  lessons  for  a  week  or  more,  and  says 
he  can't  learn  them.  I  have  tried  my  best  to  help 
him,  but  the  lessons  puzzle  me.  'Now,  Henry,  if 
you  would  only  give  him  a  little  time  this  evening 
you  might  save  him  from  discouragement  and  dis 
grace  at  school.  He  says  the  teacher  keeps  him  in 
every  day,  and  threatens  severer  punishment  if  be 
is  deficient  to-morrow.  I  promised  him  that  I 
would  speak  to  you  about  it." 

"  I've  punished  him,  and  sent  him  to  bed,  for 
striking  his  brother,"  said  Mr.  Grand.  "I  don't 
wonder  he  isn't  getting  on  right  at  school  if 
he  behaves  as  badly  there  as  ho  does  at  home. 


378  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

The  fault,  I  apprehend,  goes  deeper  than  his  les 
sons.  I  don't  believe  his  teacher  is  so  unreason 
able  as  he  makes  out." 

"  But  hadn't  you  better  look  into  the  matter  ?  I 
think  Edward  is  doing  his  best.  He  must  have 
been  very  much  provoked  if  he  struck  his  brother. 
He  is  not  troublesome  among  -the  children.  I 
wish  you  would  stay  at  home  to-night  and  look 
into  this  matter  of  his  lessons.  If  there  is  any 
injustice  towards  him,  who  but  his  father  is  com 
petent  to  protect  him  ?" 

"Oh,  as  to  the  injustice,  I  will  take  all  the 
risk,"  replied  Mr.  Grand,  indifferently. 

"  Then  you  won't  stay  at  home  ?" 

"  I  can't.     I'm  going  to  a  missionary  meeting." 

"  Missionary  meetings  may  all  be  well  enough," 
answered  the  wife,  coldly ;  "  but  my  opinion  is, 
that  your  duty  to-night  is  to  look  after  the  neg 
lected  heathen  of  your  own  home." 

"  Mary,  I  will  not  suffer  this !"  Mr.  Grand 
spoke  sternly.  "  I  know  my  duty,  and  am  alone 
responsible  for  its  performance.  I  wish  you 
would  do  yours  as  well.  "We  should  then  have  a 
better  regulated  household." 

And  he   went  out,  shutting  the   door  with  a 


AT   HOME.  379 

heavy  jar.  Mrs.  Grand  sighed,  as  she  walked 
back,  with  weary  steps,  to  the  dining-room,  and 
took  up,  with  a  sad  heart,  the  burden  of  her  duties. 
Mr.  Grand  went  to  the  meeting,  in  which  he  took 
a  prominent  part,  and  came  away  at  its  close  with 
pleasant  compliments  in  his  ears,  and  a  feeling  of 
self-satisfaction  in  his  heart,  in  having  been  an 
active  co-worker  in  a  great  scheme  of  Christian 
benevolence. 

Of  this  man's  title  to  the  name  of  Christian,  let 
the  reader  judge.  We  have  another  and  sunnier 
picture  to  exhibit,  and  so  pass  from  the  contem 
plation  of  one  that  can  only  excite  unpleasant  feel 
ings.  True  religion  always  shows  itself  best  at 
home ;  for  here  disguises  are  put  aside,  and  the 
man  is  seen  as  he  is. 

"  I  wish  father  would  come  home."  The  voice 
that  said  this  had  a  troubled  tone,  and  the  face 
that  looked  up  was  sad. 

"  Your  father  will  be  very  angry,"  said  an  aunt, 
who  was  sitting  in  the  room  with  a  book  in  her 
hand.  The  boy  raised  himself  from  the  sofa,  where 
he  had  been  lying  in  tears  for  half  an  hour,  and, 
with  a  touch  of  indignation  in  his  voice,  answered, 


380  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  He'll  be  sorry,  not  angry.  Father  never  gets 
angry." 

For  a  few  moments  the  aunt  looked  at  the  boy 
half  curiously,  and  let  her  eyes  fall  again  upon  the 
book  that  was  in  her  hand.  .The  boy  laid  himself 
down  upon  the  sofa  again,  and  hid  his  face  from 
eight. 

"  That's  father  now !"  He  started  up,  after  the 
lapse  of  nearly  ten  minutes,  as  the  sound  of  a  bell 
reached  his  ears,  and  went  to  the  room  door.  He 
stood  there  for  a  little  while,  and  then  came  slowly 
back,  saying,  with  a  disappointed  air : 

"  It  isn't  father.  I  wonder  what  keeps  him  so 
late.  Oh,  I  wish  he  would  come  home !" 

"  You  seem  anxious  to  get  deeper  into  trouble," 
remarked  the  aunt,  who  had  only  been  in  the 
house  for  a  week,  and  who  was  neither  very 
amiable  nor  very  sympathizing  towards  children. 
The  boy's  fault  had  provoked  her,  and  she  con 
sidered  him  a  fit  subject  for  punishment." 

"I  believe,  Aunt  Phrebe,  that  you'd  like  to  see 
me  whipped,"  said  the  boy,  a  little  warmly. 
"  But  you  won't." 

"  I  must  confess,"  replied  Aunt  Phoabe,  "  that  I 
think  a  little  wholesome  discipline  of  the  kind  you 


AT   HOME.  381 

speak  of  would  not  be  out  of  place.    If  you  were 
my  child,  I  am  very  sure  you  would'nt  escape." 

"  I'm  not  your  child :  I  don't  want  to  be.  Fa 
ther's  good,  and  loves  me." 

"If  your  father  is  so  good,  and  loves  you  so 
well,  you  must  be  a  very  ungrateful,  or  a  very 
inconsiderate  boy.  His  goodness  don't  seem  to 
have  helped  you  much." 

"  Hush,  will  you !"  ejaculated  the  boy,  excited 
to  anger  by  this  imkindness  of  speech. 

"  Phrebe  !"  It  was  the  boy's  mother  who  spoke 
now,  for  the  first  time.  In  an  under  tone,  she 
added :  "  You  are  wrong.  Richard  is  suffering 
quite  enough,  and  you  are  doing  him  harm  rather 
than  good. 

Again  the  bell  rang,  and  again  the  boy  left 
the  sofa,  and  went  to  the  sitting-room  door. 

"  It's  father !"  And  he  went  gliding  down 
stairs.  . 

"  Ah,  Richard  !"  was  the  kindly  greeting,  as  Mr. 
Gordon  took  the  hand  of  his  boy.  "  But  what's 
the  matter,  my  son  ?  You  don't  look  happy." 

"  Won't  you  come  in  here  ?"  And  Richard 
drew  his  father  into  the  library.  Mr.  Gordon  sat. 
down,  still  holding  Richard's  hand. 


382  STEPS  TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  You  are  in  trouble,  my  son.  What  has  hap 
pened  ?" 

The  eyes  of  Kichard  filled  with  tears  as  he 
looked  into  his  father's  face.  He  tried  to  answer, 
but  his  lips  quivered.  Then  he  turned  away,  and 
opening  the  door  of  a  cabinet,  brought  out  the 
fragments  of  a  broken  statuette,  which  had  been 
Bent  home  only  the  day  before,  and  set  them  on 
a  table  before  his  father,  over  whose  countenance 
came  instantly  a  shadow  of  regret. 

"  Who  did  this,  my  son  2"  was  asked  in  an  even 
voice. 

« I  did  it." 

"How?" 

"  I  threw  my  ball  in  here,  once — only  once,  in 
forgetf ulness." 

The  poor  boy's  tones  were  husky  and  tremulous. 

A  little  while  Mr.  Gordon  sat,  controlling  him 
self,  and  collecting  his  disturbed  thoughts.  Then 
he  said  cheerfully — 

"  What  is  done,  Eichard,  can't  be  helped.  Put 
the  broken  pieces  away.  You  have  had  trouble 
enough  about  it,  I  can  see — and  reproof  enough  for 
your  thoughtlessness — so  I  shall  not  add  a  word  to 
increase  your  pain." 


AT   HOME.  383 

"  Oh,  father !"  And  the  boy  threw  his  arms 
about  his  fathers  neck.  "  You  are  so  kind — so 
good !" 

Five  minutes  later,  and  Eichard  entered  the 
sitting-room  with  his  father.  Aunt  Phoebe  looked 
up  for  two  shadowed  faces ;  but  did  not  see  them. 
She  was  puzzled. 

"  That  was  very  unfortunate,"  she  said,  a  little 
while  after  Mr.  Gordon  came  in.  "  It  was  such  an 
exquisite  work  of  art.  Is  it  hopelessly  ruined  ?" 

Richard  was  leaning  against  his  father  when  his 
aunt  said  this.  Mr.  Gordon  only  smiled  and  drew 
his  arm  closely  around  his  boy.  Mrs.  Gordon 
threw  upon  her  sister  a  look  of  warning ;  but  it 
was  unheeded. 

"  I  think  Eichard  was  a  very  naughty  boy." 

"  We  have  settled  all  that,  Phoebe,"  was  the 
mild  but  firm  answer  of  Mr.  Gordon ;  "  and  it  is 
one  of  our  rules  to  get  into  the  sunshine  as  quickly 
as  possible." 

Phoebe  was  rebuked ;  while  Eichard  looked 
grateful,  and,  it  may  be,  a  little  triumphant ;  for 
his  aunt  had  borne  down  upon  him  rather  too  hard 
for  a  boy's  patience  to  endure. 

Into  the  sunshine  as  quickly  as  possible  !     Oh,  is 


384:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

not  that  the  better  philosophy  for  our  homes  ?  Is 
it  not  true  Christian  philosophy  ?  It  is  selfishness 
that  grows  angry  and  repels,  because  a  fault  has 
been  committed.  Let  us  get  the  offender  into  the 
sunshine  as  quickly  as  possible,  so  that  true 
thoughts  and  right  feelings  may  grow  vigorous  in 
its  warmth.  "We  retain  anger,  not  that  anger  may 
act  as  a  wholesome  discipline,  but  because  we  are 
unwilling  to  forgive.  Ah,  if  we  were  always  right 
with  ourselves,  we  would  oftener  be  right  with  our 
children. 


"  You  will  be  at  the  meeting  to-night,  Marston  ?" 
said  a  man  to  his  friend.  They  had  stopped  at 
the  corner  of  a  street,  and  were  about  separat 
ing. 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  wouldn't  miss  one  of  these  Wed 
nesday-night  meetings  on  any  account.  I  enjoy 
them  very  much;  and  gain  strength  for  duty. 
You  will  be  there?" 

"  Of  course ;  nothing  but  a  matter  of  life  and 
death  could  keep  me  away." 

"  Good  evenjng." 

"  Good  evening.     Come  early,  Marston." 

And  the  two  men  separated.    Both  had  recently 


AT   HOME.  385 

joined  the  Church,  and  both  were  ardent  in  their 
new  life,  almost  to  enthusiasm. 

On  his  arrival  at  home,  Marston  found  that  pre 
parations  for  tea  were  not  in  a  very  encouraging 
state  of  advancement ;  so  he  said,  in  a  cheerful 
way  to  his  wife,  who  was  going  about  with  a  baby 
in  her  arms — 

"  You  must  hurry  up  things  a  little,  Anna.  This 
is  "Wednesday  night,  you  know,  and  I  wouldn't  fail 
being  at  the  meeting  on  any  account.  Give 
Maggy  to  me.  There ;  now  your  hands  are  free. 
I  ought  to  have  come  home  a  little  earlier." 

The  pale,  weary-looking  wife,  smiled  on  her  hue- 
band,  as  she  handed  him  the  baby,  and  said, 
pleasantly — 

"  Tou  shall  not  be  late,  dear.  I  will  soon  have 
all  ready.  My  head  has  ached  badly  all  the  after 
noon,  and  this  has  kept  me  behindhand. 

"  I'm  sorry  for  that,  Anna.  Does  it  ache  still?" 
The  husband's  voice  was  full  of  kind  interest. 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  feel  unusually  weak.  The  first 
warm  weather  of  the  season,  always  tries  me,  you 
know." 

A  shade  of  concern  came  over  the  face  of  Mr. 
Marston,  as  his  eyes  followed  the  retiring  form  <$£ 
It 


386  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

his  wife.  He  was  an  industrious  young  man,  with 
only  a  small  salary ;  and  his  wife  was  trying  to 
get  along  without  a  domestic.  They  had  two  chil 
dren — a  little  boy  four  years  old,  and  Maggy, 
the  baby,  who  had  not  yet  completed  her  first 
year. 

In  a  shorter  time  than  the  husband  had  expected, 
his  wife's  pleasant  voice  called  him  to  supper.  He 
gave  her  the  baby  as  he  entered  their  little 
dining-room,  and  she  sat  down  with  it  in  her  arms 
to  pour  out  the  tea. 

"  Does  your  head  ache  still?"  inquired  Marston. 

"  Badly ;  but  I  think  a  cup  of  tea  will  do  me 
good." 

"  I  hope  so,  indeed.  Give  baby  back  to  me.  I 
can  hold  her."  And  the  husband  reached  out  his 
hands  for  little  Maggy,  who,  pleased  to  return,  al 
most  leaped  into  his  arms. 

"  Tou  must  take  her  back,  mother,"  said  Mars- 
ton,  rising  from  the  table,  in  about  ten  minutes, 
and  reaching  the  baby  to  his  wife.  "  It  is  late,  and 
I  must  be  away,  or  the  prayer-meeting  will  open 
before  I  get  there." 

"  But  Maggy,  who  was  very  fond  of  her  father, 
did  not  wish  to  leave  him ;  and  so  struggled,  aftes- 


AT   HOME.  387 

her  mother  had  received  her,  and  cried  to  be  taken 
back. 

"  Papa  must  go,  darling."  Marston  bent  down 
and  tried  to  soothe  the  grieving  little  one.  As  he 
did  so,  Maggy  got  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
held  on  tightly.  It  took  quite  an  effort  to  remove 
them. 

As  Marston  shut  the  door  of  his  dwelling  behind 
him,  and  commenced  walking  rapidly  away  in  the 
direction  of  the  church,  at  which  the  prayer- 
meeting  was  to  be  held,  he  was  conscious  of  an 
unpleasant  pressure  upon  his  feelings.  "What  did 
this  mean  ?  He  began  at  once  searching  about  in 
his  mind  for  the  cause.  At  first,  he  could  see 
nothing  clearly ;  but  gradually  thought  went  back 
to  the  home  he  had  just  left,  and  to  his  pale,  weary- 
looking  wife  and  children,  grieving  because  he  had 
left  them. 

"Is  this  right?"  The  question  came  suddenly 
upon  him,  and  almost  arrested  his  steps. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  leave  them  alone  to-night,"  he 
said  within  himself ;  "  and  wouldn't,  except  for  the 
prayer-meeting.  I  gain  so  much  strength  and 
comfort  in  this  means  of  grace,  that  I  feel  as  if  it 
would  be  wrong  to  neglect  it." 


388  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

And  so  he  walked  on,  but  with  slower  steps,  his 
thoughts  still  returning  to  his  home,  and  imagina 
tion,  giving  more  and  more  vivid  pictures  of  his 
wife  and  children  in  grief  for  his  absence.  At  last 
he  stood  still. 

"  I  need  the  blessing  I  had  hoped  to  receive  this 
evening.  The  strength,  the  comfort,  the  peace." 
he  said,  still  talking  with  himself.  "But,  poor 
Anna  I  It  is  hard  for  her  to  be  left  alone.  And 
she  isn't  at  all  well." 

"  I  will  go  back."  He  spoke  out  resolutely,  at 
last;  and  commenced  retracing  his  steps.  "I  must 
not  consider  myself  alone.  Perhaps  God  wix2  give 
the  strength  and  comfort  I  need,  even  if  I  do  not 
meet  to-night  with  his  people." 

"  Oh,  James,  is  it  you  ?"  Mrs.  Marston  started 
at  the  unexpected  appearance  of  her  husband  wno 
saw,  as  she  looked  up,  that  her  eyes  were  wet. 
"  Have  you  forgotten  anything  ?" 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  as  he  stood  gazing  with  un 
usual  tenderness  upon  her. 

"  What  is  it  ?     Can  I  get  it  for  you?" 

"I  forgot  to  stay  at  home  with  my  wife  and 
children,"  said  the  young  man. 

"  Oh,  James !"  Tears  gushed  over  his  wife's  face. 


AT   HOME.  389 

"  And  I've  come  back  to  remain  with  them." 

Mrs.  Marston  leaned  her  aching  head  upon  her 
husband's  shoulder,  and  sobbed.  This  unexpected 
circumstance  quite  broke  down  the  little  self-com 
posure  that  remained. 

"Did  you  feel  lonely?" 

"Lonely,  sad,  and  discouraged,"  she  answered. 
"  But  you  are  good  and  kind ;  and  I  am  weak  and 
foolish.  Go  back,  James,  to  the  prayer-meeting 
I  shall  feel  better  now." 

"!N"o,  darling,"  said  Marston.  "I  will  stay  at 
home  to  help  and  comfort  my  lonely,  sad,  and 
discouraged  wife ;  and  I  think  I  shall  be  serving 
God  in  this,  with  a  truer  spirit  of  worship  than  I 
could  possibly  feel  in  any  prayer-meeting  that  I 
went  to  at  the  sacrifice  of  a  clear  home  duty." 

uHow  does  your  head  feel  now,  Anna?"  was 
asked  half  an  hour  later,  as  they  sat  together,  Mrs. 
Marston  with  her  needle  in  her  hand,  and  her  hus 
band  holding  both  of  the  happy  children  in  his. 
arms. 

"  It  is  free  from  pain,  and  I  feel  so  much  better. 
I  think  your  unexpected  return  hns  en  rod  me. 
Ain't  I  a  weak,  foolish  woman,  James  ?  But,  after 
you  have  been  absent  all  day  long,  I  can't  bear  to 


390  BTEP8   TOWARDS    IIEAVEN. 

have  you  go  out  in  the  evening.  I  love  BO  to  hear 
you  read  to  me ;  and  you  don't  know  how  much 
good  it  always  does  me." 

Mr.  Marston  smiled  back  upon  his  wife  a  loving 
smile.  New  thoughts  were  awakened  in  his  mind. 

"  There  are  other  souls  to  be  cared  for  as  well  as 
my  own,"  he  said,  a  little  while  after,  as  he  sat 
musing  on  the  occurrences  of  the  evening.  "  The 
souls  of  my  wife  and  children.  How  can  I  help 
them  on  the  way  to  heaven  ?  By  going  out  to  reli 
gious  meetings,  or  by  staying  at  home  with  them  ? 
Ah !  My  duty  is  clear.  I  must  do  right  before  I 
can  "be  right.  If  I  endeavor  to  water  the  souls  of 
others,  God  will  water  my  own  soul.  He  has 
placed  these  precious  ones  in  my  care,  and  I  must 
be  faithful  to  the  high  mission." 

To  think  right  is  the  first  step  towards  doing 
right.  "While  his  wife  sat  at  her  work,  Mr.  Mars- 
ton  put  his  little  boy  to  bed ;  first  talking  to  him 
about  heaven,  and  its  pure  inhabitants,  and  then 
hearing  him  say  his  prayers. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  son !"  he  said  in  his  heart, 
as  he  laid  on  his  pure  lips  the  good-night  kiss. 

Another  new  thing  in  the  household  of  Mr. 
Marston  occurred  that  evening.  As  his  wife  sewed, 


AT   HOME.  891 

he  read  to  her,  first  from  religious  books,  and  then 
from  the  Bible.  "When  bed-time  drew  near,  he 
said,  in  a  serious,  but  gentle  voice — 

"There  are  home  prayer- meetings,  as  well  as 
church  prayer-meetings ;  and  God  has  said,  'Where 
even  two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  His 
name,  there  He  will  be  in  the  midst  of  them.' 
Shall  we  not  open  a  prayer-meeting  in  our  house, 
Anna — a  home  prayer-meeting?  There  are  two 
of  us  here,  and  God  has  declared  that  even  with 
two  He  will  be  present." 

"I  am  not  strong  enough  for  duty,  Henry. 
Every  day  I  feel  that  human  strength  is  but  weak 
ness.  Pray  with,  and  pray  for  me,  that  divine 
strength  will  be  given." 

Mrs.  Marston  spoke  with  glistening  eyes. 

Then  they  knelt  down  together,  and  opened  a 
prayer-meeting  in  their  home;  and  Marston 
gathered  in  the  act  more  strength  and  comfort 
than  could  possibly  have  been  found  at  the  public 
meeting,  had  he  gone  there  in  violation  of  his 
home  duties,  and  sung  and  prayed  never  so  fer 
vently  ;  for  right  actions,  from  religious  principles, 
alone  bear  us  heavenwards. 


392  STEPS   TOWARDS    HEAVEE. 


XXXYI. 
WILD    OATS. 

THERE  are  steps  away  from  heaven,  as  well  as 
towards  heaven,  and  a  warning  word  cannot  be 
wholly  out  of  place,  and  so  we  give  this  earnest 
admonition  to  the  young  and  thoughtless,  and  pray 
them  to  keep  their  minds  pure. 

Many  a  young  man  has  been  lured  from  the 
path  of  virtue,  and  enticed  into  the  road  that  leads, 
by  an  easy  descent,  into  the  accursed  valley  of 
destruction,  through  the  thoughtless  speech  of  some 
thoughtless  person,  talking  flippantly  about  sowing 
wild  oats,  as  a  thing  to  be  expected  in  youth. 

"  I  had  one  lesson  on  this  subject  from  the  lips 
of  an  aged  counsellor,"  said  a  valued  friend  to  me, 
not  long  since,  "  which  has  never  been  forgotten. 
The  timely  warning  saved  me.  I  was  nineteen 
years  of  age,  and  had  just  entered  college.  Young 
men  were  there  from  nearly  every  State  in  the 


WILD   OATS.  393 

Union,  and  some  of  them  already  sadly  corrupted. 
1  was  social,  in  high  health  and  spirits,  and  with  an 
imagination  forever  carrying  me  beyond  the  actual 
and  the  present.  Before  I  had  time  for  reflection, 
and  before  even  a  consciousness  of  wrong  had 
reached  me,  I  was  afloat  on  a  dangerous  sea,  my 
boat  gliding  swiftly  forwards,  and  the  Siren's  songs 
already  in  my  ears. 

"  One  night  we  had  a  wine  party  in  the  town, 
which  ended  in  excesses,  the  thought  of  which  has 
called  a  burning  blush  to  my  cheeks  a  hundred 
times  since.  I  had  not  been  very  well  for  some 
days  previously,  suffering  from  constant  headache 
and  low  febrile  symptoms.  The  dissipation  of  a 
night  turned  the  scale  upon  the  wrong  side,  and  I 
was  so  ill  the  next  day,  that  it  was  thought  best  to 
call  in  a  physician.  He  was  an  old  man,  of  the 
•old  school  of  gentlemen,  and  wise,  thoughtful,  and 
kind.  He  commenced,  at  once,  the  business  of 
finding  out  everything  in  regard  to  my  habits, 
principles,  and  modes  of  thought,  and  there  was 
something  in  him  that  so  inspired  me  with  confi 
dence,  that  I  concealed  nothing.  He  looked  grave, 
and  offered  a  remonstrance. 

" « Oh/  said  I,  almost  lightly, « young  men  must 
11* 


394:  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

sow  their  wild  oats.  The  ground  will  be  so  much 
the  better  prepared  for  seeding  wheat,  after  the 
crop  is  taken.' 

" '  An  error  of  the  gravest  character,'  he  replied, 
seriously,  *  and  one  that  has  ruined  its  thousands 
and  its  tens  of  thousands  of  young  men.  Is  a  garden 
better  prepared  for  the  reception  of  good  seed,  for 
having  been  first  permitted  to  grow  weeds  ?  I  put 
the  question  to  your  common  sense.  Are  there  not 
some  soils  so  filled  with  all  manner  of  evil  seeds, 
that  the  gardener,  with  his  utmost  toil  and  care, 
can  scarcely  remove  the  vigorous  plants  that  spring 
to  life  in  the  warm  sunshine  and  rain  ?  It  is  no 
mere  comparison,  that  of  the  human  soul  to  a 
garden.  It  is,  in  reality,  a  spiritual  garden.  Truth 
is  the  good  seed  which  is  sown  in  this  garden,  false 
principles  the  evil  seed,  or  '  wild  oats,'  which  the 
enemy's  hand  scatters,  if  permitted,  upon  its  virgin 
soil.  Now,  is  it  not  as  much  an  insult  to  reason  to 
say  that  the  man  will  be  a  wiser,  truer,  better  man, 
for  having  false  principles,  leading  at  once  to  an 
evil  life,  sown  upon  the  ground  of  his  mind  in 
youth,  as  it  is  to  say  that  a  garden  will  be  more 
thrifty  in  after  years,  for  being  first  permitted  to 
grow  weeds  ? 


WILD   OATS.  395 

" '  My  stranger  friend !  I  have  lived  almost  to 
the  completion  of  life's  earthly  cycle,  and  have 
seen  a  sad  number  of  young  men  lost  to  the  world, 
lost  to  themselves,  and  lost,  I  fear,  to  the  company 
of  God's  blessed  angels,  in  consequence  of  that 
single  false  idea  sown  into  the  earth  of  their  minds. 
Oh,  cast  it  out  at  once !  Keep  yourself  pure.  Let 
right  principles,  chaste  thoughts,  noble  purposes, 
manly  aims,  grow  in  your  garden — not  the  accursed 
wild  oats !  Be  temperate,  prudent,  virtuous,  obe 
dient  to  superiors,  honorable,  kind.  Aim  to  be  a 
man — not  a  sensualist.  Govern  yourself  as  a  man, 
instead  of  letting  passion,  appetite,  or  any  sensual 
desire  rule  you  as  a  tyrant.  Sow  no  more  wild 
oats.  You  will  find  trouble  enough  in  your  after 
life  with  the  seed  already  scattered  in  your  fields.' 

"  The  scales,"  said  my  friend,  "  dropped  at  once 
from  my  eyes.  I  saw  that  the  good  old  physician 
was  right,  and  that  this  cant  about  sowing  wild 
oats  involved  one  of  the  most  dangerous  fallacies 
into  which  the  mind  of  a  young  man  could  fall. 
It  was  my  last  folly  of  this  kind." 


396  STEPS   TOWAKDS   HEAVEN 


XXXVII. 

* 

THE  ANGEL  PAIN". 

"  OH,  if  it  wasn't  for  pain,"  said  Mrs.  "Warren, 
"  life  would  be,  indeed,  a  blessing !  But  pain  mars 
everything.  It  is  pain,  pain,  pain !  This  is  the 
heirloom  which  every  one  possesses  ;  and  the  mind 
must  accept  the  fatal  legacy  as  well  as  the  body." 

And  the  lady  sunk  back  with  a  sigh  upon  the 
pillow  from  which  she  had  raised  herself  while 
speaking. 

"  An  angel  who  never  sleeps  at  her  post,  is 
pain,"  said  a  gentle  voice,  the  low  tones  of  which 
filled  the  room  like  a  passing  strain  of  music. 

"  A  malignant,  destroying  angel !"  Mrs.  War 
ren  spoke  with  almost  angry  excitement. 

"A  kind,  wise,  loving  angel,"  was  answered 
firmly,  "  ever  seeking  to  save.  No  enemy,  whether 
of  the  body  or  the  soul,  can  approach  the  citadel 


THE   ANGEL   PAIN.  397 

of  life  without  a  sure  warning  from  this  faithful 
sentinel." 

Mrs.  "Warren's  only  response  was  a  groan,  ac 
companied  by  a  firm  pressure  of  her  hand  against 
her  side. 

"Does  the  pain  increase?"  was  asked  in  tones 
of  sympathy. 

"  Oh,  yes !  It  seems  at  each  breath,  as  if  a  knife 
were  passing  through  me." 

"  The  doctor  will  soon  be  here,  I  trust ;  and  from 
him  we  may  hope  for  speedy  relief." 

"  I  am  so  oppressed !"  said  the  sick  lady,  panting 
as  she  spoke.  "  It  seems  as  if  a  heavy  weight 
were  crushing  in  my  breast."  • 

"  You  did  not  feel  that  in  the  beginning  ?" 

"  No.    The  pain  came  first." 

"  Warning  you  of  danger.  I  am  glad  we  sent 
so  promptly  for  the  physician.  You  dressed  too 
thinly  last  night.  Bare  arms  and  neck !  I  said 
the  imprudence  would  bring  its  own  punishment." 

"Was  that  the  bell?"  asked  Mrs.  Warren,  raising 
her  head  and  listening. 

"Yes." 

"  Oh,  that  it  may  be  the  doctor  I  This  pain  is 
dreadful?" 


398  STEPS   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

The  doctor  entered  in  a  few  moments. 

"  You  did  not  send  for  me  a  minute  too  soon,'' 
was  almost  his  first  remark,  after  examining  into 
the  symptoms  of  his  patient.  It  was  a  case  of 
acute  pneumonia.  Mrs.  Warren,  who  was  a  fash 
ionable  woman,  had  attended  a  fashionable  party 
on  the  night  before,  with  arms,  neck,  and  part  of 
her  chest  exposed.  The  company  was  large,  and 
the  rooms  oppressively  warm.  Imprudently,  she 
sought  an  open  window  for  fresh  air.  A  sudden 
check  of  perspiration  was  the  result,  and  inflam 
mation  of  the  lungs  the  final  consequence.  Pain 
gave  timely  warning  of  danger,  and  aid  was 
promptly  summoned.  Skillfully  applied  remedies 
met  the  destroyer  at  the  threshold,  and  he  retired 
after  a  brief  conflict. 

"  Thanks  to  the  angel  pain !"  said  the  sister  of 
Mrs.  Warren,  as  she  sat  by  the  feeble  convalescent. 
"  Your  precious  life  has  been  spared." 

There  was  a  faint,  assenting  smile. 

"  If  she  had  not  been  true  to  her  mission  ;  if  she 
had  slept  one  fatal  moment  at  her  post,  and  per 
mitted  disease  to  pass  in  without  a  stroke  of  warn 
ing,  the  darkness  of  death  would  now  veil  the  eyes 
of  our  sister,  and  our  hearts  be  shrouded  in  mourn- 


THE   ANGEL    PAIN. 

ing.  And  so  I  say,  blessed  be  pain !  It  is  God'b 
merciful  gift  1" 

"  Wise  counsellor !  sweet  consoler  I  What  would 
I  not  give,  dear  sister  Anna,  for  your  clear-sighted 
eyes  —  your  Christian  philosophy — your  divine 
faith — your  acceptance,  not  only  in  my  person, 
but  in  your  own,  of  pain  as  a  blessing !" 

"  In  nearly  all  cases,"  was  the  low-voiced  an 
swer,  "  pain  comes  from  a  violation  of  either 
natural  or  moral  laws.  If  the  former,  the  body 
suffers ;  if  the  latter,  the  mind.  And  thus  being 
warned  of  error  by  the  approach  of  evil,  we  turn 
to  the  physician  and  are  healed." 

She  paused,  letting  her  meek  eyes  sink  to  the 
floor,  and  remained  lost  for  some  time  in  thought. 

"  And  so  mental  pain  is  an  indicator  of  mental 
disease  1"  said  Mrs.  Warren. 

"  Always,"  the  sister  answered. 

"  Always  ?"  there  was  a  tone  of  surprise  in  Mrs. 
Warren's  voice. 

"  But  what  if  the  pain  arise  from  another's  act, 
instead  of  our  own  ?" 

"  As  when  the  body  receives  external  injury,  for 
instance  ?"  said  Anna. 

"  Yes.    Is  the  pain  from  mental  disease  in  that 


400  BTEP8   TOWARDS   HEAVEN. 

"  Is  the  body  in  health  when  a  hand  is  crushed, 
or  the  flesh  bruised  ?"  asked  the  sister. 

"No." 

"  And  sudden  pain  gives  warning  of  the  sudden 
injury.  A  condition  of  health  no  longer  exists, 
and  death  may  as  surely  follow  without  the  phy 
eician's  aid  as  if  every  pore  of  the  body  had  ab 
sorbed  contagion.  As  it  is  with  the  body,  so  is  it 
with  the  spirit.  One  is  materially  organized ;  the 
other,  as  I  have  often  said  to  you,  is  spiritually 
organized ;  and  both  are  subject  to  laws  which 
cannot  be  violated,  even  in  the  smallest  particular, 
without  evil  consequences.  It  matters  not  whether 
the  disturbance  of  harmony  come  from  without  or 
from  within — the  indicator,  pain,  gives  surely  its 
alarm,  and  ceases  not  until  the  danger  has  passed. 
If  it  were  not  so,  spiritual  death,  which  is  the 
extinction  of  all  good  affections  in  the  soul,  would 
as  certainly  follow  spiritual  disease  as  natural 
death  follows  natural  disease." 

"1  see,  but  dimly,"  said  Mrs.  "Warren  with  a 
sigh.  "Disease — pain — death!  Alas!  alas!  There 
is  not  a  human  flower  untouched  by  their  blight. 
As  for  pain — pain  of  mind,  and  pain  of  body — it  is 
the  death's  head  grinning  at  all  our  feasts." 


THE   ANGEL  PAIN.  401 

"  Say  rather,  dear  sister,  the  angel  who  points  to 
the  enemy  of  our  peace,  and  cries,  'Beware!  be 
ware  !'  Look  down  into  your  heart,  and  question 
it  closely.  From  what  causes  have  arisen  pain  ol 
mind?  From  orderly  or  disorderly  activities? 
That  is,  from  neighborly  and  divine  affections,  or 
worldly  and  selfish  affections;  for  in  these  two 
lie  all  the  elements  of  life.  There  is  not  an  im 
pulse  of  feeling,  nor  the  motion  of  a  thought,  lying 
outside  of  them.  As  the  fountain  is,  so  will  the 
stream  be.  As  the  life  is — orderly  or  disorderly — 
so  will  be  the  consciousness  of  life.  The  orderly 
movement  will  be  smooth,  harmonious,  delightful ; 
the  disorderly,  with  shock,  and  jar,  and  pain. 

u  Dear  sister,  look  into  your  heart,  and  answer 
the  question — "What  has  caused  unhappiness  ?  The 
activities  of  neighborly  love,  burning  with  a  desire 
to  bless  others ;  or  the  activities  of  worldly  love, 
seeking  to  receive  rather  than  to  bestow  ?  "Were 
we  in  the  true  order  of  our  lives,  we  would  be 
God-like,  for  we  are  the  work  of  his  hands ;  and  to 
be  God-like  is  tc  love  others,  and  to  seek  their 
good.  But  if,  departing  from  true  order,  we  love 
only  ourselves,  and  seek  merely  our  own  good, 
disease  of  mind  follows  as  a  sure  consequence; 


402  STEPS  TOWARDS  HEAVEN. 

and  pain,  true  to  her  mission,  will  give  the  needed 
warning  lest  we  perish  in  eternal  death.  Mental 
suffering  is,  therefore,  a  sure  sign  that  our  life- 
motions  are  in  the  wrong  direction.  Pain  touches 
us  in  mercy,  not  in  wrath.  Let  us  be  wise,  and 
heed  her  divine  admonitions." 

"  The  memory  of  a  good  deed,"  said  Mrs.  "War 
ren,  speaking  from  a  new  state  of  perception, 
"  rarely  gives  us  pain." 

"  Never,"  was  answered,  "  when  the  prompting 
motive  is  good.  But  if  we  exercise  neighborly 
charities  from  selfish  or  worldly  ends,  we  cannot 
claim  the  high  reward  of  interior  delight.  As  our 
ends  are,  so  always  will  be  the  quality  of  oui 
enjoyments.  Real  good  must  be  genuine,  from 
inception  to  act." 

"  But  how  are  we  to  know  whether  our  motive 
be  selfish  or  unselfish?  Ends  of  life  are  most 
deeply  hidden." 

""We  surround  ourselves,"  replied  the  sister, 
"  with  an  atmosphere  so  dusky  that  vision  is  often 
at  fault.  And  so  we  move  forwards,  not  always 
certain  of  our  steps.  But  thanks  to  the  prompter, 
pain,  she  will  not  permit  us  to  swerve  a  hair's 
breadth  from  the  right  path,  without  giving  a  sign 


THE    ANGEL   PAIN.  4:03 

If  we  heed  not  her  gentler  admonitions,  she  speaks 
in  clearer  tones ;  and  if  we  heed  not  yet,  her  voice 
takes  on  a  harsher  thrill.  Louder,  sterner,  harsher 
it  becomes,  if  our  feet  continue  to  walk  in  the 
ways  that  lead  downwards ;  and  she  ceases  not  her 
cry,  even  unto  the  end.  A  blessing  on  pain,  then, 
I  repeat,  dear  sister!-  A  blessing  on  pain!  She 
k  heaven-sent,  and  would  lead  us  to  heaven." 


THE    END. 


§        LIST  07  VALUABLE  AND  POPULAR  BOOKS. 

TRAVELS  &  RESEARCHES 


UJtf&s  of  Soutf)  Hfrtctt 


This  is  a  work  of  thrilling  adventures  and  hair-breadth 
escapes  among  savage  beasts  and  more  savage  men.  Dr. 
Livingstone  was  alone,  and  unaided  by  any  white  man, 
traveling  with  African  attendants,  among  different  tribes 
and  nations,  all  strange  to  him,  and  many  of  them  hostile, 
and  altogether  forming  the  most  astonishing  book  o* 
travels  the  world  has  ever  seen.  All  acknowledge  it  is 
the  most  readable  book  published.  Price  $1.25. 


NOTICES    OF     THE     PRESS. 

It  abounds  In  description*  of  strange  and  wonderful  scene*,  among  a  peopl«  and  In  • 
country  entirely  new  to  the  civilized  world  ;  and  altogether  we  regard  it  as  oae  of  tin 
moit  interesting  books  iuaed  within  the  past  year.— Daily  Democrat,  Patttrson,  A'M* 
Jersey. 

The  subjects  treated  of  are  new  and  strange,  and  take  a  deep  bold  npou  popular  feel 
ing.  The  book  is  baring  a  great  ran,  and  will  be  read  by  every  reading  man,  womaa, 
and  child,  in  this  as  well  as  other  lands. — Anhtabula  (Ohio)  Telegraph. 

Those  of  oar  readers  who  would  have  a  delightful  book  for  reading  at  any  hour,  will 
»<>'.  be  disappointed  in  this  work. — United  Stales  Journal. 

This  interesting  work  should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  one.  Its  interesting  pages  of 
Mventnres  are  full  of  instruction  and  amusement. — Auburn  American. 

With  truth  we  can  say,  that  seldom  is  presented  to  the  reading  public  a  work  con 
taining  such  a  vast  amount  of  solid  instruction  as  the  one  in  question. — Family  Afaytf 
tine. 

It  it  a  rich  and  valuable  book  for  the  general  reader  ;  and  the  admirable  style  In  which 
tta  publisher  has  issued  it,  will  commend  it  to  the  favor  of  thousands. — ChritUan 
Gbterver. 

This  is  *  valuable  work  for  the  general  reader,  gotten  np  In  beautiful  style.  A  special 
Interext  I-  given  to  this  volume  by  the  addition  of  valuable  "  Historical  Hotice*  of  Di»- 
eoveries  in  Africa."  Altogether,  it  would  be  difficult  to  name  any  work  which  would 
•ore  completely  meet  the  popular  tuste  of  our  day.  Those  of  our  friends  who  have 
perufted  "our"  copy,  speak  very  highly  of  It. — Fort.  Edward  Innt.  Monthly. 

The  present  volume  Is  a  beautiful  12mo.,  of  446  pages,  numerously  illustrated,  an4 
contains  all  of  the  original,  except  »ome  of  the  more  dry,  scientific  details.  It  is  ••- 
•htiieally  an  edition  for  the  people ;  and,  judging  from  the  rapid  sale  with  wblefc  II  U 
,  it  U  folly  appreiKted  by  them.— Okrtotit™.  Enema*,  £oriOO. 


LIST   0¥   VALUABLE   AND    POPTJLAfi   BOOKS. 


T.    S.    ARTHUR'S    WORKS. 

[The  following  List  of  Books  are  all  written  by  T.  S.  ABTHUR,  th« 
well-known  author,  of  whom  it  lias  been  said,  "that  dying  h«  hot 
not  written  a  word  he  would  wish  to  erase."  They  are  all  gotten  up 
in  the  best  style  of  binding,  and  are  worthy  of  a  place  in  eviry 
household.]  

TEN   NIGHTS   IN   A   BAR-ROOM, 


This  powerfully-written  work,  one  of  the  best  by  its  pvpular  Avfkor, 
haa  met  with  an  immense  sale — ten  thousand  copies  having  been 
ordered  within  a  month  of  publication.  It  is  a  large  12mo.,  illus 
trated  with  a  beautiful  Mezzotint  Engraving,  by  Sartain ;  printed 
on  fine  white  paper,  and  bound  in  the  best  English  muslin,  gilt 
oack.  Price  $1.00. 


The  following  are  a  few  of  the  many  Notices  of  the  Press. 

Powerful  and  seasonable. — JT.  T.  Independent. 

Its  scenes  are  painfully  graphic,  and  furnish  thrilling  argument*  for  the  temperance 
cause. — JVorton'*  Literary  Gazette. 

Written  in  the  author's  most  forcible  and  vigorous  style. — Lehigh  Valley  Time*. 

lu  the  "Ten  Nights  in  a  Bar-Boom,"  some  of  the  consequences  of  tavern-keeping,  the 
"sowing  of  the  wind"  and  "reaping  the  whirlwind,"  are  followed  by  a  "fearful  COB- 
runmation,"  and  the  "closing  bcene,"  presenting  pictures  of  fearful,  thrilling  interest. 
—Am.  Courier. 

There  is  no  exaggeration  in  these  pages — they  seem  to  have  beeu  filled  up  from  actual 
observation. — Philadelphia.  Sun. 

We  have  read  it  with  the  most  intense  Interest,  and  commend  it  as  a  work  calculated 
to  do  an  immense  amount  of  good. — Lancaster  Express. 

We  wish  that  all  lovers  of  bar-rooms  and  rum  would  read  the  book.  It  will  pay  them 
richly  to  do  so.— N.  ¥.  Northern  Blade. 

It  is  sufficient  commendation  of  this  little  volume  to  say  that  it  is  from  the  graphis 
pen  of  T.  S.  Arthur,  whose  works  will  be  read  and  reread  long  after  he  has  passed 
away.  He  is  as  true  to  nature,  as  far  as  he  attempts  to  explore  it,  as  Shakspewa 
himself;  and  his  works,  consequently,  have  an  immense  popularity. — New  Haven 
Palladium. 

There  are  many  scenes  uneqnaled  for  pathos  and  beauty.  The  death  of  little  Mary 
•M  scarcely  be  surpassed. — N.  T.  Some  Journal. 


WHAT  CAN  WOMAN  DO? 

12mc.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving, Price  |1.00 

Our  purpose  is  to  show,  in  a  series  of  life  pictures,  what  woman  can  do,  as  well  foi 
rood  as  for  evil.  We  desire  to  bring  her  before  yon  as  a  living  entity,  that  you  may  set 
her  M  she  is,  and  comprehend  in  gome  small  degree  the  influence  |he  wields  in  the 
world's  progress  upward,  as  well  as  her  power  to  mar  the  human  soul  and  drag  it  down 
V  perdition,  wHen  hei  own  spirit  is  darkened  by  eril  r""io»"  "— _?**•«"*  fro**  **• 

i 


LIST  OF  VALUABLE  AWD  POPULAB  BOOKS. 
T.    S.    ARTHUR'S    W  0  RK8—  Continued. 


RELIGION    IN    COMMON    LIFE. 

Price, $1.00 

NOTICBS     OF     THB     PRESS. 

It  panders  to  the  doctrines  and  tenets  of  no  particular  sect,  and  will  be  found  an  excel 
lent  bock  to  place  in  the  hands  of  young  people. — Savannah  Georgian, 

It  is  a  work  well  calculated  to  do  good,  and  to  put  into  the  hands  of  'ftio  youth  of  th« 
country. — Enquirer. 

This  work  will  interest  the  reader,  and  at  the  same  time  teach  lemons  of  practical 
Talue. — Ch.  Messenger,  VI. 

It  is  designed  to  show  that  the  beauties  and  endearments  of  Christianity  art  to  b« 
developed  amid  the  stern  realities  of  every-day  life. — Vermont  Messenger. 

It  is  a  timely  and  good  book,  and  should  be  widely  read,  etpacially  by  young  Chris* 
tians  — Central  Ch.  Herald,  Cincinnati. 

Mr.  Arthur  is  already  well  known  as  an  earnest  man,  whose  object  has  been  to  do 
his  part  in  spreading  the  doctrines  and  teachings  of  the  Christian  religion  ;  and  in  tke 
present  volume  he  urges  the  necessity  of  charity,  and  endeavors  to  impress  upon  the 
reader  the  fact  that  religion  is  for  daily  life,  "  and  cannot  be  put  aside  at  the  tranquil 
elose  of  Sabbath  evenings." — Courier  and  Enquirer. 

More  decidedly  religious  in  its  character  than  Arthur's  other  works,  though  it  ll 
neither  doctrinal  nor  sectarian. — Ch.  Timef,  Chicago. 

The  pen  of  T.  S.  Arthur  never  tires.  In  this  new  volume,  we  precelTO  that  he  is 
still  laboring  successfully  in  producing  brief  stories,  the  aim  of  which  is  moral.  Ha 
nays  truly,  when  he  declares  that  "no  special  theology  is  taught  in  this  volume,"  by 
which  he  means,  we  suppose,  that  controverted  dogmas  are  not  introduced.  His  main 
point  is,  "Religion,  to  be  of  any  real  use  to  a  man,  must  come  down  into  all  hit,  daily 
duties,  and  regulate  his  actions  by  a  divine  standard/' — Exeter  Newt  Letter. 

No  special  theology  is  taught  in  this  volume.  It  addresses  itself  to  no  particular  Met 
or  denomination.  It  has  no  aim  bnt  to  assist  men  to  grow  better,  and  thence,  happier.— 
Salem  Gazette. 

Arthur  has  produced  few  more  satisfactory  books  than  this. — Atlas  and  Bet. 


THE  HAND  WITHOUT  THE  HEART; 

OB, 

THE  LIFE  TRIALS  OF  JESSIE  LORINGK 
Prico, fl.OO 

The  point  of  this  story  Is  expressed  in  the  title  ;  and  the  story  itself  is  a  sharply  drawn 
Illustration  of  the  folly  and  madness  of  linking  together  two  immortal  souls  by  tbo 
tough  chains  of  selfish  interest,  pride,  or  baser  passion.  The  lesson  taught  is  one  of 
4*ep  significance;  and  thousands  of  hearts  will  throb  in  almost  wild  response,  to  th« 
lif«  experiences  of  Jessie  Loring,  who  in  all  the  bitter  trials  of  her  unhappy  union, 
•werved  not  a  hair's  breadth  from  honor,  principle,  or  religions  duty,  though  temptation 
•*me  in  its  uuwt  alluring  shape.  A."  the  type  of  a  true  woman,  »he  is  worthy  to  b« 
•mb%lm*4  in  th«  memory  of  every  reader. — Southern  Argv*. 


TIB  IOtN6   UDT  Af  BOMB. 

to  o«t  •      » Prio«,  |i  00 


10  LIST   07   VALUABLE   AND   POPULAR   BOOKS. 

T.    8.    A  ET  HUE'S    W  0  EKS—  Continued. 


ARTHUR'S  SKETCHES 

OP 

UPB   AND   CliRACTBR, 

An  octavo  volume  of  over  400  pages,  beautifully  Illustrate!,  an 
Wand  in  the  best  English  muslin,  gilt.     Price  $2.00. 


NOTICES    OP    THE    PBESS. 

The  present  yolume,  containing  more  than  four  hundred  finely-printed  octavo  page*, 
Is  illustrated  by  splendid  engraving*,  and  made  particularly  valuable  to  those  who  like 
to  "nee  the  face  of  him  they  talk  withal,'N>y  a  correct  likeness  of  the  author,  finely  en 
graved  on  steel. — Xeal'a  Gazette. 

In  the  princely  mansions  of  the  Atlantic  merchants,  and  in  the  rude  log  cabins  of  th« 
backwoodsmen,  the  name  of  Arthur  is  equally  known  and  cherished  as  the  friend  of 
rittne. — Graham's  Magazine. 

We  would  not  exchange  our  copy  of  these  sketches,  with  its  story  of  "  The  Methodist 
Preacher,"  for  any  one  of  the  gilt-edged  and  embossed  Annuals  which  we  have  yet  seen. 
—Lady'g  National  Magazine.. 

The  first  story  in  the  volume,  entitled  "  The  Methodist  Preacher,  or  hights  and 
Shadows  in  the  Life  of  an  Itinerant,"  is  alone  worth  the  price  of  the  work. — Evening 
Bulletin. 

It  is  emphatically  a  splendid  work. — Middletown  Whig. 

IU  worth  and  cheapness  should  place  it  in  every  person's  hands  who  desires  to  read 
an  interesting  book. — Odd  Fellow,  Boonsboro'. 

"  The  Methodist  Preacher,"  "  Seed-Time  and  Harvest,"  •'  Dyed  in  the  Wool,"  are  full 
>f  truth  as  well  as  instruction,  and  any  one  of  them  is  worth  the  whole  price  of  the 
volume. — Lowell  Day-star,  Rev.  D.  C.  Eddy,  Editor. 

There  is  a  fascination  about  these  sketches  which  so  powerfully  Interests  the  reader, 
that  few  who  commence  one  of  them  will  part  with  it  till  it  is  concluded  ;  and  they  will 
bear  reading  repeatedly. — ^for/oik  and  Portsmouth  Herald. 

Those  who  have  not  perused  these  model  stories  have  a  rich  feast  in  waiting,  and  we 
•hall  be  happy  if  we  can  be  instrumental  in  pointing  them  to  it. — family  Visitor, 
Hadison,  G<r. 

No  library  for  family  rending  should  be  considered  complete  without  this  volume, 
which  is  as  lively  and  entertaining  in  ita  character,  as  it  is  salutary  in  its  influence. — 
N.  Y  Tribune. 

The  work  is  beautifully  illustrated.  Those  who  are  at  all  acquainted  with  Arthnr'i 
writings  need  hardly  be  told  that  the  present  work  is  a  prize  to  whoever  possesses  it. — 
Jf.  ¥.  Sun. 

We  know  no  better  book  for  the  table  of  any  family,  whether  regarded  for  its  ne» 
•xterior  or  valuable  contents. —  Vox  Popult,  Lowell. 

The  name  of  the  author  is  in  itself  a  sufficient  recommendation  of  the  work. — Lav> 
rtnee  Sentinel. 

T.  8.  Arthur  is  one  of  the  best  literary  writers  of  the  age. — Watchman,  CiiclevttU 
•Mfe. 

The  name  alone  of  the  author  is  a  sufficient  guarantee  to  the  reading  public  of  its  snr 
passing  merit. — The  Argus  Gallattn,  Miss. 

Probably  he  has  not  written  a  line  which,  dying,  he  could  wish  to  erase.—  Parkeri 
Gazette: 


THE    WITHERED     HEART. 

with  fine  Mezzotint   Frontispiece.     Cloth Price  $1.0t 

This  work  has  gone  through  several  editions  in  England  although 
published  but  a  few  weeks,  and  has  had  the  most  nattering  notice* 
L»oa  the  English  Press. 


LIST   OF    VALUABLE   AND   POPTJLAB   BOOKS.  11 

T.    S.    ARTHUR'S    W  0  RK.S—  Continued. 


anb  Sjmkfos  of  $tal  fife. 


With  an  Autobiography  and   Portrait  of  the  Author.      Over  fir* 
hundred  pages,  octavo,  with  line  tinted  Engravings.     Price  $2.00. 

NOTICES    OF     THE     PRESS. 

In  this  volume  may  be  found  a  "moral  suasion,"  which  cannot  but  affect  for  goo4 
ill  who  read.  The  mechanical  execution  of  the  work  a  very  beautiful  throughout.— 
M&D  Haven  Palladium. 

It  U  by  far  the  most  valuable  book  ever  published  of  his  works,  inasmuch  as  it  la  •*• 
tiched  with  a  very  interesting,  though  brief  autobiography. — American  Courier. 

No  family  library  is  complete  without  a  copy  of  this  boik. — Scott's  Weekly  Paper. 

No  better  or  worthier  present  could  be  made  to  the  young ;  no  offering  more  purg 
charitable,  and  practicable  could  be  tendered  to  those  who  are  interested  in  the  truly 
oenevolent  reforms  of  the  day. — Oodey's  Lady's  Book. 

The  paper,  the  engravings,  the  binding,  and  the  literary  contents,  are  all  calculated 
to  make  it  a  favorite. — Penn.  Inquirer. 

This  volume  caunot  be  too  highly  recommended. — N.  T.  Tribune. 

More  good  has  been  effected,  than  by  any  other  single  medium  that  we  know  of.— • 
N.  Y.  Sun. 

The  work  should  be  upon  the  centre-table  of  every  parent  In  the  land. — Nationa* 
Temperance  Magazine. 


LEAVES  FROM  THE  BOOK  OF  HUMAN  LIFE 

Large  12mo.    With  Thirty  Illustrations  and  Steel  Plate.    Price  $1.00 

A.  single  story  is  worth  the  price  charged  for  the  book. —  Union,  Newburyport,  Mass 
"  It  includes  some  of  the  best  humorous  sketches  of  the  author." 


I  The  following  Books  are  bound  in  uniform  style  as  "ARTHUR'S 
COTTAGE  LIBRARY,"  and  are  sold  in  sets,  or  separately,  each 
volume  being  complete  in  itself.  Each  volume  is  embellished 
with  a  fine  Mezzotint  Engraving.] 


TO 

AND     OTHER    TALES. 
Cloth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving,  .....................  Price  $1.00 

TRUE  RICHES;  OR,  WEALTH  WITHOUT  WINGS, 

AND     OTHER    TALES. 
Cleth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving,  .....................  Price  $1.00 


ANGEL   OF  THE   HOUSEHOLD. 

AND     OTHER    TALES. 
Cloth,  12mo.,  witL  Mezzotint  Engraving, ,.  Price  $1.00 


(2  LIST   OF    VALUABLE   AND   POPULAR   BOOKS. 

T.    S.    ARTHUR'S    W  0  RKS—  Continued. 


GOLDEN  GRAMS  FROM  LIFE'S  HARVEST-FIELD. 

Bound  in  gilt  back  and  sides,  sheep,  with,  a  beautiful  Mezzotint  En 
graying.     12mo.     Price  $1.00. 

NOTICES    OF    THE    PRESS. 

It  Is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  the  Golden  Grains  here  presented  to  the  reader,  ar« 
•net  an  will  be  productive  of  a  far  greater  amonnt  of  human  happiness  than  those  U 
•earoh  of  which  so  many  are  willing  to  risk  domestic  peace,  health,  and  even  life  itsel 
In  a  distant  and  inhospitable  region. 

These  narratives,  like  all  of  those  which  proceed  from  the  same  able  pen,  are  re 
markable  not  only  for  their  entertaining  and  lively  pictures  of  actual  life,  but  for  their 
Admirable  moral  tendency. 

It  is  printed  in  excellent  style,  and  embellished  with  a  mezzotint  engraving.  We 
cordially  recommend  it  to  the  favor  of  oar  readers. — Gfodey't  Lady's  Magazine. 


s   gome 

f  The  following  four  volumes  contain  nearly  500  pages,  Illustrated 
with  fine  Mezzotint  Engravings.  Bound  in  the  best  manner,  and 
sold  separately  or  in  sets.  They  have  been  introduced  into  the 
District,  Sabbath-school,  and  other  Libraries,  and  are  considered 
one  of  the  best  series  of  the  author.] 

THREE    ERAS    IN    A    WOMAN'S    LIFE. 

Containing    MAIDEN,  WIFE,  and    MOTHER. 

Cloth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving, Price  $1.00 

"This,  by  many,  is  considered  Mr.  Arthur's  best  work." 

TALES    OF    MARRIED    LIFE. 

Containing  LOVERS  and   HUSBANDS,  SWEETHEARTS   and 
WIVES,  and  MARRIED   and   SINGLE. 

Cloth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving, Price  $1.00. 

"In  this  volume  may  be  found  some  valuable  hints  for  wives  and  husbands,  aa  wel 
M  the  young." 

TALES    OF    DOMESTIC    LIFE. 

Containing    MADELINE,     THE     HEIRESS,     THE     MARTYR 
WIFE,  and  RUINED    GAMESTER. 

Cloth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving, Price  $1.00. 

"Contains  several  sketches  of  thrilling  interest." 

TALES    OF    REAL    LIFE. 

Containing  BELL  MARTIN,  PRIDE    and  PRINCIPLE,  MARY 
ELLIS,  FAMILY  PRIDE,  and  ALICE  MELVILLE. 

Cleth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving, Price  $1.06. 

*  i'kis  Tolume  giv«s  the  experiences  of  real  life  by  many  who  found  not  their  ids*!. 


LIST   OF   VALUABLE   AND   POPULAR   BOOKS.  13 

T     S.    ARTHUR'S    WO  RKS—  Continued. 


A    BOOK    OF    STARTLING    INTEREST. 


Till  mmi  AND  TIB  DfflON, 

A  handsome  12mo.  volume.    Price  $1.00 


In  this  exciting  story  Mr.  ARTHUB  has  taken  hold  of  the  reader'a 
attention  with  a  more  than  usually  vigorous  grasp,  and  keeps  him 
absorbed  to  the  end  of  the  volume.  The  book  is  one  of  START 
LING  INTEREST.  Its  lessons  should  be 

IN  THE  HEART  OF  EVERY  MOTHER. 

Onward,  with  a  power  of  demonstration  that  makes  conviction  a 
necessity,  the  Author  sweeps  through  his  subject,  fascinating  at 
every  step.  In  the  union  of 

THRILLING  DRAMATIC  INCIDENT, 

with  moral  lessons  of  the  highest  importance,  this  volume  stands 
forth  pre-eminent  among  the  author's  many  fine  productions. 

NOTICES     OF    THE    PRESS. 

A  utory  of  much  power,  imbued  with  that  excellent  moral  and  religions  spirit  which 
pervades  all  his  writings. — N.  Y.  Chronicle. 

This  volume  is  among  his  best  productions,  and  worthy  of  a  place  on  every  centre- 
table. — Clarion,  Pa.,  Banner. 

This  is  a  most  fascinating  book,  one  which  the  reader  will  find  it  quite  hard  to  lay 
•tide  without  reading  to  the  last  page. — Albany,  N.  Y.,  Journal  and  Courier. 


THE    GOOD    TIME    COMING. 

Large  12mo.,  with  fine  Mezzotint  Frontispiece, Price  $1.00 

It  is  like  every  thing  emanating  from  that  source— worth  reading. — Toledo  Bla.de. 
It  i*  characterized  b.  \\\  the  excellencies  of  hit  style.  "—Phila.  SutteUn. 
It  is  a  book  the  most  scrupulous  parent  a»y  flaw  i»  *.•  hand  of  hia  child.— 
4#?we  Transcript. 


14 


LIST   OF   VALUABLE   AND    POPULAR   BOOKS. 


T.    S.    ARTHUR'S    W 0 R K S— Continued. 


The  Old  Man's  Bride, Price  $1.0 

Heart  Histories  and  Life  Pictures,    -       "      1.00 


Sparing  to  Spend;  or,  The  Loftons  and 
Finkertons, 


Home  Scenes, 


1.0 
1.0 


I 


OF 


Two  vols.  in  one.    By  Gen.  S.  P.  LYMAN.    Price  $1.0  J. 


EXTRACT  FROM  PREFACE. 

The  Personal  Memorials,  which  compose  BO  large  a  portion  of 
these  volumes,  are  from  the  pen  of  Gen.  S.  P.  Lyman,  whose  inti 
mate  and  confidential  relations  with  Mr.  Webster  afford  a  sufficient 
guarantee  for  their  authenticity.  They  are  believed  by  the  publisher 
to  embrace  a  more  copious  collection  of  original  and  interesting 
memoranda,  concerning  the  life  and  character  of  the  great  States 
man  whose  recent  death  has  created  so  deep  a  sense  of  bereavement 
throughout  the  country,  than  has  hitherto  been  given  to  the  world. 


coon  mm  ROUND  THE  WORLD. 


Two  yolumes  in  one, 


Prioc  $1.00 


LIST   OF   VALUABLE   AND   POPTTLAB   BOOKS.  15 

THE   MASTER-SPIRIT  OF  THE  AGE. 

THE  PUBLIC  AND  PRIVATE  HISTORY 

OF 

NAPOLEON   THE   THIRD, 


WITH 


Biographical  Notices  of  his  most  Distinguished 
Ministers,  Generals  and  Favorites. 

BY  SAMUEL   M.   SMUCKER,  A,M. 

Author  of  "Court  and  Reign  of  Catharine  II.,"  "Nicholas  I.,  Emperor  of  Raida," 
"  Life  of  Alexander  Hamilton,"  etc.,  etc. 


This  interesting  and  valuable  work  is  embellished  with  splendid 
Steel  Plates,  done  by  Mr.  Sartain  in  his  best  style,  including 

THE  EMPEROR,  THE  EMPRESS,   QUEEN   HORTENSE, 
AND  THE  COUNTESS  CASTIGLIONE. 

The  work  contains  over  400  pages  of  closely-printed  matter,  and 
has  been  prepared  with  much  care  from  authentic  sources,  and  fur- 
riches  a  large  amount  of  information  in  reference  to  the  Emperoi 
the  French, 

HIS  COURT,  AND  FRANCE  UNDER  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE, 

which  is  entirely  new  to  American  readers.  This  work  is  the  only  one, 
either  in  English  or  French,  which  boldly  and  accurately  describes 

THE    REAL   CHARACTER,    THE  PRIVATE    MORALS,   THK 
PUBLIC    POLICY,    OF    NAPOLEON    THE    THIRD. 

Copies  sent  by  mail  on  receipt  of  the  price,  $1.25. 


NOTICES    OF    THE    PRESS. 

Th'.g  1*  a  very  valuable  contribution  to  the  literature  of  the  present  time.  An  extra 
•rdinary  amount  of  information  is  given  in  the  present  volume.  Like  all  the  othe: 
works  of  the  graceful  and  fluent  author,  It  must  command  a  very  large  popularity.— 
Philadelphia  Mncury. 

It  is  the  most  complete  biography  of  the  French  Emperor  yet  published,  aud  bringi 
•rent*  down  to  the  present  time. — Baltimore  Republican. 

This  book  is  well  written,  printed  on  good  paper,  is  neatly  bound,  good  size,  and  sold 
cheap. —  Valley  Spirit,  Chamber  sbnrg. 

This  work  does  full  and  ample  justice  to  the  subject.  It  Is  a  production  of  superior 
ability.  Mr.  Smucker  is  an  accnmplished  writer.  He  is  learned  and  accurate  in  hU 
tesearches,  and  his  style  is  polished  and  scholarlike,  so  that  he  produces  worki  of  •»•• 
ling  value  and  permanent  interest.— Philadelphia  Dispatch. 


LIST   OF   VALUABLE   AND   POPULAR   BOOKS.  17 


AMONG 


BY  JOHN    FKOST,    LL.D. 

COMPRISING   THE   MOST   REMARKABLE 

Personal  Narratives  of  Events  in  the 
Early  Indian  Wars, 

AS   WELL   AS   OF 

INCIDENTS  IN  THE  RECENT  INDIAN  HOSTILITIES  IN 
MEXICO  AND  TEXAS. 

Illustrated  witli  over  30G  Engravings,  from  designs  by  W.  Croome, 
and  other  distinguished  artists.  It  contains  over  500  page! 
12mo.  Bound  in  cloth,  gilt  back.  Price,  $1.25. 


o  :R,  A.  :MI  .A. 

OP 

THE  OLD  WORLD  AND  THE  NEW 

COMPRISING 

A  View  of  the  Present  State  of  the  Nations  of  the  Wont, 

their  Names,  Customs,  and  Peculiarities,  and  their  Political, 

Moral,  Social,  and  Industrial  Condition. 

Interspersed  with  Historical  Sketches  and  Anecdotes,  by  WILLIAK 
PIICNOCK,  author  of  the  Histories  of  England,  Greece,  and  Rome. 
Enlarged,  revised,  and  embellished  with  several  hundred  En 
gravings,  including  twenty-four  finely-colored  Plates,  from  designs 
of  Croome,  Devereux,  and  other  distinguished  artists.  It  ceu- 
tains  oveo  600  pages,  bound  in  embossed  morocco,  gilt 
Prio*  $2.7$ 


LIST   OF   VALUABLE   AND   POPTILAK   BOOKS. 


THE 

BUTTLE  FIELDS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

COMPRISING   DESCRIPTIONS    OP   THB 

Different   Battles,  Sieges,  and  other  Events   of 
the  War  of  Independence. 

INTERSPERSED  WITH  CHARACTERISTIC  ANECDOTES, 

Illustrated  with  numerous  Engravings,  and  a  fine  Mezzotint  Frontii 
piece.     By  THOMAS  Y.  RHOADS.     Large  12mo.     Price  $1.00. 


Th«  Sergeant  and  the  Indians. 
Burning  of  the  Gaspee. 
The  Great  Tea  Riot. 
The  First  Prayer  in  Congress. 
Battle  of  Lexington. 
Fight  at  Concord  Bridge. 
Capture  of  Ticonderoga. 
Battle  of  Bunker's  Hill. 
Attack  011  Quebec. 
Attack  on  Sullivan's  Island. 
The    Declaration    of    Indepen 
dence. 

Firmness  of  Washington. 
Capture  of  General  Lee. 
Capture  of  General  Prescott. 
General  Prescott  Whipped. 
Battle  of  Trenton. 
Battle  of  Princeton. 
General  Lafayette. 
Battle  of  Brandywine. 
Battle  of  Germantown. 
Battle  of  Red  Bank. 


Burgoyne's  Invasion— Battle  of 
Benningtou. 

Heroic  Exploit  of  Peter  Fran 
cisco. 

Andrew  Jackson. 

Siege  of  Yorktown — Surrendei 
of  Cornwallis. 

George  Rogers  Clarke. 

Death  of  Captain  Biddle. 

Patriotism  of  Mother  Bailey. 

The  Dutchman  and  the  Rake. 

Simon  Kenton. 

The  Murder  of  Miss  M'Crea. 

Massacre  at  Wyoming. 

Treason  of  Arnold. 

Patriotism  of  Elizabeth  Zane. 

Stony  Point. 

John  Paul  Jones. 

Battle  of  King's  Mountain. 

Burning  of  Colonel  Crawford 

Battle  of  the  Cowpens. 

Baron  Steuben. 

Mrs.  Bozarth. 


PIONEER  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST 

ffemprising  the  Adventures  of  BOONE,  KEKTON,  BRADT,  CLABKB,  The 
WKKTZELS,  and  others,  in  their  Fierce  Encounters  with  the  In 
tiani.  Prioe  $1.00. 


20  LIST   OF   VALUABLE   AND   POPULAR   BOOKS 


[The  following  two  volumes  by  S.  M.  SMUCKER,  Esq.,  have  had  a 
large  sale,  and  are  considered  the  best  Biographies  of  these  great 
statesmen  published.  Each  is  illustrated  with  a  fine  and  correct 
Steel  Portrait.  The  Life  of  Hamilton  has  been  reviewed  by  his 
son,  now  residing  near  New  York,  who  speaks  of  it  in  the  highest 
terms.] 

THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  THOMAS  JEFFERSON. 

By  S.  M.  SMUCKER,  A.M.,  author  of  "Life  and  Reign  of  Nicholas  I. 
Emperor  of  Russia,"  &c.,  &c.  Large  12mo.  of  400  pages.  Cloth 
With  fine  Steel  Portrait.  Price  $1.25. 

anb  Sfimes  of  pirate  f  airaftm. 

By  S.  M.  SM0CKER,  A.M.,  author  of  "Life  and  Reign  of  Nicholas  1., 
Emperor  of  Russia,"  &c.,  &c.  Large  12mo.,  with  Portrait.  Over 
400  pages.  Price  $1.25. 


THE  BLESSINGS  OF  AN  OPEN  BIBLE;  as  shown  in  the  His 
tory  of  Christianity,  from  the  Time  of  our  Saviour  to  the  Present 
Day.  By  VINCENT  W.  MILNEK.  With  a  View  of  the  latest  Develop 
ments  of  Rome's  Hostility  to  the  Bible,  as  exhibited  in  the  Sand 
wich  Islands,  in  Tuscany,  in  Ireland,  France,  &c.,  and  an  exposS 
of  the  absurdities  of  the  Immaculate  Conception,  and  the  Idola 
trous  Veneration  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  By  REV.  JOSEPH  F.  BERG, 
D.D.,  author  of  "The  Jesuits,"  "Church  and  State,"  &c.-,  &c. 
12mo.,  430  pp.  Illustrated  with  numerous  Engravings.  Bouue 
in  muslin,  gilt  back.  $1.00 


THE  WORLD  IN  A  POCKET  BOOK, 

By  WILLIAM   H.  CRUMP.      New  Revised  Edition,  brought  down  to 
1858,     Price  $1.25. 

This  work  is  a  Compendium  of  Useful  Knowledge  and  General 
Reference,  dedicated  to  the  Manufacturers,  Farmers,  Merchants, 
and  Mechanics  of  the  United  States — to  all,  in  short,  with  whom 
time  is  money — and  whose  business  avocations  render  the  acquisi- 
tioa  of  extensive  aud  diversified  information  desirable,  by  tLe  short 
est  possible  road.  The  volume,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  found  worthy 
•t  a  place  in  every  household — in  every  family.  It  may  indeed  b« 
a  library  in  itself. 


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405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


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OCT  1 6  1993 

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